


The Witch House

by TA141



Category: Hellsing
Genre: Blind Character, Deaf Character, F/M, International Relations, Magic, Muteness, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Vampires, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2017-12-24 03:34:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 96,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/934820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TA141/pseuds/TA141
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an effort to improve the UK's political relations, the Queen orders Hellsing to the dank, swampy forests of France's corner. As eager and bloodthirsty as ever, Alucard, along with an exasperated Seras and Pip, head into the lair of a strange and wicked creature. Meanwhile, Integra struggles with harsh lessons learned in the modern era of monster-hunting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/n: The main reason behind this story is that I feel the Hellsing fandom is sorely lacking in long multi-chaptered fics. Conveniently, I had this idea on back-burner for quite a while now.
> 
> Hopefully I've kept everyone in character, but this is my first long fic and post on this site I'm sorry if it's not quite up to snuff yet!
> 
> Feel free to comment or ask questions if the plot confuses you!
> 
> Disclaimer: All characters of Hellsing are created and owned by Kouta Hirano.

_In the muggy, sweat-soaked noon of 1830, a woman burns at the stake. She is not fair nor ugly, not loved nor hated. No one knows where she came from or who she is and no one bothers to know. She is simply going to burn._

_"You'll pay for this!" she shrieks, writhing against the post, thin bloodied wrists chafing against thick rope, "You think I end here? HERE?"_

_The faceless peasants hurry to throw torches onto the wood pile. Some cross themselves and pray. Some will go to their deaths still hearing her screams._

_"Filthy rats," she rasps, her throat half-charred, "I'll drown myself in your blood."_

_And then in that little insignificant village, in that country that has collapsed on its side, the woman without a name burns. She thinks in those last moments of the dark power waiting for her, the speed and teeth, the beauty that she will have forever. She thinks and grows giddy and cackles._

_And then she burns._

\---

"She killed another ten this week," a short, squat figure sat hunched over a dark table, "Half the village has already moved out. At this rate, the whole place is going to become a ghost town."

He fidgeted, fiddling around with his glasses as he sent nervous glances toward the shadowed figure gazing out a window across the room.

"How many men have you sent to her?" the silhouette asked softly, turning to reveal a tall, slender frame, hands folded neatly behind his back.

The short man's eyes widened slightly and he dabbed at his pale sweaty forehead with a limp handkerchief.

"Three squads," he answered, sighing shakily, "They were just...none of them returned."

"Does this surprise you?" the figure asked icily, "Sending mere men. They would not have stood a chance."

The short man released a distressed moan, leaning his elbows on the table to grab at his head.

"Mon Dieu, what on Earth is she?" he whispered, hands clenching in his thinning brown hair, "Where did she come from?"

"Where she came from is irrelevant," the shadow chastised, strolling across the room, "She is but a monster."

"How are we suppose to deal with something like her?! Mon Dieu, it's so hopeless, once all the villagers are gone, she's going to leave that place and kill us all. We're all going to die. Dieu, why do I have to be in charge of something like this? I-"

"Silence," the shadow snapped, and the short man's voice died in his throat, but he continued whimpering, mopping at his perspiring forehead. A corner of the shadow's thin lips curled in a disgusted sneer as he regarded the other.

"I would never expect a disgrace such as you to be capable of handling her," he said simply, "To fight a monster, one needs another monster."

"...W-What?"

"Get Madame Rosbif on the phone," the shadow suddenly said, walking briskly back to the window, "If those isle peasants wish to become such good friends with us then a few favors should be done first."

The short man's eyes widened into saucers.

"M-Monsieur, you can't be saying-"

"I find the whole arrangement rather irksome, truly," the silhouette turned back toward the window, "However, since we do not have a creature of caliber at our disposal, we are forced to ask the English for their dog."

"B-But Monsieur!" the man stammered, half-rising from his chair, "The place where she is, and what she can do there, i-it's-"

"It doesn't matter."

"But what if-"

_"I said it doesn't matter!"_

There was an audible, almost painful sounding 'click' as the man's mouth snapped shut. A long, stifling silence reigned. The shadowy figure didn't even turn around.

"As long as she dies," he finally said, quietly, "As long as she dies, it doesn't matter."

\---

Integra Hellsing rubbed at her temples, feeling the aching pulse of her fourth migraine of the day.

"Are you even listening to me, Alucard?" she snapped, glaring at the dark, lanky form draped languidly over her couch.

Alucard, Hellsing's ultimate secret weapon, current source of her headaches, and usual bane of her existence, blinked distastefully at her.

"I still don't understand why I need to be up during the day for this."

Integra gritted her teeth, nearly mangling the fountain pen in her hand. She'd always thought of herself as a reasonably patient person-the nature of the events and people that surrounded her daily demanded it-but Alucard was gnawing quite thoroughly on her last nerve.

"I already told you," she began again through clenched teeth, "The jet will be coming to pick you up at noon."

"Why does it have to come at noon?"

"Because that's when they said they'd arrive."

"Why can't it be a later time?"

"Because that's when the fucking French said they'd get here."

"Well why does it have to be a French jet anyway? Why can't one of the British jets take me at a reasonable time that doesn't involve the blazing sun at the peak of the sky?"

Integra sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose hard. While Alucard's complaints were beginning to resemble a sulky child not wanting to ride in a different car to school, she honestly thought he had a point.

As if there weren't enough problems with vampires in the UK, now she was expected to respond to incidents in othercountries as well? Sometimes, Integra thought her Queen was a bit narrow-minded in her eagerness to improve national relations.

"It's a gesture of courtesy, Alucard," she explained, "They are trying to convey new alliances through their offer to take you. We would be conveying likewise by accepting."

The look her vampire gave her was thoroughly unimpressed and Integra had to repress another sigh. Given that his own management of national relations as a prince had involved impaling people on 18 meter spikes, she wasn't really surprised he didn't understand.

"Look, I know it's going to be uncomfortable, but the trip will only take two hours at the maximum. ...You can just sleep during that time."

She winced internally at the suggestion. Alucard was a notoriously heavy sleeper and once he was out, he was out. The image of oblivious French officials trying to rouse him was unpleasant.

"They're offering to serve you virgin blood as well," she quickly amended, "It should be relatively fresh."

Alucard sat up silently, the first spark of interest in his slanted red eyes. Well, at least she could rely on his never-ending hunger to respond. Thinking that the inevitable next question would be what his menu options were, Integra was just beginning to draw out the list of available blood types she'd memorized earlier, when he surprised her.

"It's interesting that for one who is doing a favor, Master, you are acquiescing to a great many demands."

Integra blinked at him. Her vampire was giving her a bemused, slightly puzzled look, like he was wondering where his usually strict and uncompromising mistress was. She sighed again in exasperation.

"It's an order from Her Majesty. She has wanted to improve relations with France for quite some time now."

"Hm," Alucard scowled slightly, "The Queen is surprisingly more weak-willed than I thought."

Integra's icy eyes flashed.

"Careful, Alucard," she warned, "That is your Queen you're talking about."

Alucard shrugged, and turned to stare sullenly at the dead fireplace. With his legs crossed loosely across the couch and his sleep-mussed hair, he looked much like a cranky teenager.

_Which he is over the majority of the time._

Integra closed her eyes for a moment and massaged her left temple.

Truth be told, she'd been as confused and annoyed as Alucard when she first received that call. Not only did the President of France apparently know about the existence of the supernatural, Hellsing and Alucard, he had wanted to call on them for some vampire problem of theirs, as if they were mercenaries for hire.

She'd been a thought away from refusing, when the Queen had told her she'd already accepted, and sounded both firm enough and apologetic enough that Integra had no choice but to obey.

"She's trying to improve our national relations, " she tried to explain, "Our ties with France have always been tenuous at best."

Alucard scoffed.

"She apparently doesn't understand the meaning of good relations then."

"You are the last person I want to hear that from," Integra snapped, "And how this country decides to handle foreign affairs is none of your concern."

"It is when you want me to get up during the day."

_Jesus Chri-_

"For goodness sake, Alucard, it's just for two bloody hours!" she said, wanting to throw her hands up in frustration, "The sunlight doesn't even affect you!"

He had no problem with flying across the channel and no problem with traipsing through a swampy forest, but he was going to have issues with sitting on a plane for two hours at noon?

Alucard didn't even deem to look at her this time, making Integra's blood boil over.

"You seem to be under the delusion again that it ultimately matters what you want, Alucard," she said frostily, "This business with the French is not a friendly suggestion. I'm ordering you to go to France and complete this mission. You'd do well to not complain further and endure the discomforts."

Silence. Integra stared holes into the back of Alucard's dark-haired head. She didn't enjoy constantly lording herself over him, but her pet always needed constant reminder of his position within the organization. Getting him upset and sulky with her was an incredible pain in the arse too.

So imagine her surprise when Alucard suddenly turned back to her, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"Well, if it is an order from the Master," he purred, "Then I shall do as you command."

There was not a single trace of his previous irritation remaining, as if it were never there in the first place.

Integra slightly gaped at him, feeling a bit like she had just been struggling and struggling against an inflatable wall. She had spent nearly two hours coaxing and persuading him, explaining and re-explaining the circumstances. Two hours in which she could have made a sizeable dent in her paperwork. Two hours in which her favorite fountain pain was now nearly beyond repair. And he was just sitting there, with that incredibly amused grin split across his face, probably immensely entertained by how long it took for her to snap and simply order him into it.

Integra saw red.

"ALUCARD!"

He was gone before the silver ashtray could bounce harmlessly across the couch cushions, his deep moronic laughter echoing the office.

_Perhaps you'll see me across the channel, Master, I will guarantee you quite a show._

\---

When Walter came in a few hours later with the afternoon tea, he was forced to dodge an ashtray that crashed violently against the door frame.

"Get out, you demon! I'm busy!" she barked, eyes flashing furiously beneath her glasses, before she realized who it was.

"Oh my God, Walter, I'm so sorry!" she cried in surprise, anger melting off instantly as she began rising from her chair.

Walter waved a hand gently at her as he straightened from his crouch.

"Not a problem, Ma'am," he replied calmly, steadying the tray of tea and sandwiches in his hand. Not a single drop had been spilled.

He walked over to her desk, smiling wryly.

"Am I to assume you have already briefed Alucard on his mission?"

Integra snorted bitterly, looking slightly frazzled.

"I suppose "brief" would be the operating word, but a more appropriate description would be that he wasted two hours of my time being a difficult bastard for absolutely no reason."

Walter made a thoughtful sound as he poured Integra cup of Earl Grey; he was well aware of Alucard's childish inclinations.

"Well, I suppose his...eccentric personality will deter the French from asking for anymore foolish favors if nothing else," he offered, unable to conceal the slight cheer in his tone.

Integra eyed him over the rim of her teacup.

"Walter, you do know the whole point of this is to improve our standing with them right?"

Of course he knew. He knew, but that didn't mean he understood, and while others may claim his disdain for the French was borne from an elderly mind stuck in a traditional past, Walter simply failed to see gaining anything beneficial from having relations with them, and certainly not in doing favors for arrogant, pompous, skirt-twirling frog tossers that lost practically every war they'd ever waged.

"...I would love nothing more than for our nation to strengthen alliances, Sir Integra. It's just that I'm a bit unsure of the impression Alucard is going to make."

"That's an easy enough problem to solve, Walter," Integra replied dismissively, sipping at her tea.

Walter tried not to look disappointed. "Pardon, Ma'am?"

"I'm sending Seras and Captain Bernadette with him," his mistress said, "I suppose you could tell him they're there for back-up but really, he'll need to be kept an eye on if we're not to muck this up too badly."

The old butler's shoulders sagged slightly. "I see."

Integra's lips twitched in an amused and knowing smile.

"It is what Her Majesty wants, Walter," she comforted him, "And besides, the case is ridiculously low level. It would be a bit of an embarrassment if we declined."

Walter's slender eyebrow raised in surprise.

"Really? If I may ask, ma'am, what is the case about?"

Integra let out an unladylike snort, gesturing to the thin stack of papers she'd been attending to.

"A female vampire has taken up residence in a forest edging along a nearby village. Over the last month, she's killed over fifty people. The villagers are in a hysterical panic and the police are useless as usual. In general however, she has no known powers aside from the typical vampiric strength and speed, and no special abilities. Alucard should make short work of her."

Walter nodded, shuffling lightly through the papers. The vampire certainly sounded unimpressive enough; some of the reports even detailed her killing her victims with a physical weapon.

"It says here that she's residing within an ancient castle," he commented thoughtfully.

Integra nodded, but didn't look any more troubled.

"From what we've gathered from the French, it's merely an old abandoned relic from the 1800s. Nothing to be concerned over."


	2. Chapter 2

La Maison de la sorcière was a spiraling tower of black brick and stone, adorned by a vast white-coned tip. An old gnarled porch jutted from the side of its base, connecting to a small, slightly crumpled house. Vines and moss heavily blanketed its walls and poured over the uneven roof in a dusty green curtain.

It was quaint, in an eerily isolated sort of way. Or at least that's what Seras would've thought normally.

As of right now though, she was trying to glare it to death.

"Holy shit, I think I saw a snake!" a French voice nearly screeched from behind her, breaking her concentration. Seras sighed, not bothering to turn around, even as she heard the loud clumsy shuffling of feet and equipment. After the fourth false alarm and unnecessary bout of panicking led by Pip, she was almost certain there were no snakes at all in this area of the forest.

"You're being too loud, Captain," she said instead, pulling the Harkonnen's strap higher over her shoulder. It kept scraping across the copses' rough upper branches no matter how it was held and she was sure there'd be ugly scratches all over the neck by the time they went back.

Seras's eye twitched slightly at the thought. This was already starting out so well.

"Hurry up," a voice from far ahead suddenly boomed back at them, "You're slow."

Seras twitched harder.

"Stop _yelling_ , Master," she whispered back, knowing he'd hear her anyway, "This is suppose to be a stealth mission."

As if just to prove her wrong, Pip accidentally dropped a large gray case that crashed against a tree stump before slamming down on the stone-riddled ground.

"Fuck!" he was on his knees almost instantly, carefully righting the case and whatever was inside with the care of handling a newborn.

Seras clenched her teeth and was just about to shush the man again when her master's completely deafening chuckle rang out across the trees.

"Come now, police girl, what's the point of being quiet, when it's going to become loud again anyway?" his voice slithered up around them, a slightly crazed eagerness lingering darkly on the edge of his tone.

Seras groaned. Between Pip's screaming and dropping of equipment every five seconds and her master's annoyingly boisterous mood, she was thoroughly expecting the enemy to come flying at them through the bushes at any second now.

_I'm telling you to relax, police girl,_ Alucard's amused voice rumbled in her head, making her jump and almost trip, _The sun has just finished setting only thirty minutes ago. It will take another hour for them to fully awaken._

"Master, stop reading my mind!" she whined, almost perfunctorily, before his words actually sunk in.

_WHAT?! Why didn't you tell me that from the beginning?!_

She had been nothing but a mess of paranoia, anxiety and stress since they'd gone on this stupid traipse too. From the growing curl of a grin forming in her head, it hadn't been an innocent mistake.

_Hurry, police girl, you're dawdling._

He pulled out of her head so quickly she couldn't even edge in another word. Seras sputtered incoherently for a moment, before deflating with a frustrated sigh. Despite growing more and more accustomed to her master's strange personality, it still amazed her at times how he could find doing such pointlessly obnoxious things so amusing.

"Come on, Captain," she started, turning to Pip, "we should-" and her eyes promptly popped out of her skull.

"Is that a _flamethrower_?!" 

Pip was still crouched on the floor, but the case was now open and what looked to be a large jetpack with a hose connected to it was in his lap. He nodded absentmindedly at her, craning his neck to check all the little seals and latches leading up to the nozzle.

"Yeah."

Silence.

_"Why do you have that?"_

"I don't like the look of this place," he replied simply, packing up the flamethrower once he was sure it wouldn't burn down half the woods, "After Mr. Alucard has his fun, I'm going to torch it."

Seras's nose wrinkled slightly at the reminder of her master's ideas for entertainment.

"But no one even lives around here," she said, "Once we dispatch the targets it'll just be a tower."

Pip gave her a strange look as he re-shouldered his pack.

"Do you know what La Maison de la sorcière means, mignonnette?" he asked, answering his own question when Seras just blinked at him, "It means the Witch House. I don't know about you, but I think it's better to destroy something with a name like that. All kinds of weird shit happened here before and now its housing bloodsuckers. This place is bad news."

Seras's eyebrows rose at the serious look on his face; compared to his usually cocky grin, it looked very weird.

"I didn't know you were the superstitious type, Captain," she teased, trying to cover up how uncomfortable she found it.

Pip just shrugged and walked past her, the flamethrower case tucked beneath his arm.

"I'm here with you and that master of yours, aren't I?"

Right. Point taken. Seras pulled lightly on the Harkonnen strap, and debated for a moment on whether to stop him or not. In the end, she decided not to bother. If Pip wanted to act like a paranoid crazy man and get yelled at for hours, then that was his business.

They spent the next few minutes trudging through the spongy, rotting undergrowth that tapered the forest's edge. There was much yelping and cursing as they stumbled along, dragged down by their cumbersome burdens.

By the time they managed to shove around the last of the bushes and branches, Pip was half-covered in mud and Seras had dead wet leaves smeared all across and behind her dark pink coat.

The castle stared indifferently down at them, glowing ethereally in the moonlight. Seras glared at it again. Suddenly, Pip's flamethrower idea seemed a lot more inviting.

Of course then her master, impeccable timing as always, chose this moment to slither over in a ribbon of shadow and eyes.

"It's about time," he said simply, arching an elegant brow at their bedraggled states, "You're both filthy."

His usual red overcoat black slacks ensemble was immaculate. Seras twitched.

_Well excuse us for not being able to ooze through trees with our magical shadow powers._

_You could learn if you actually drank your blood for once._

"Master!" Alucard just grinned, while she scowled up at him with her fists bunched. Pip looked between the two vampires confusedly for a moment, before deciding he didn't really need to know.

"Aw, give us a break, Mr. Alucard," he said lightly, dropping his pack on a nearby rock, "It's pitch black out here."

Alucard snorted, "I don't give breaks."

"Really, please tell us more," Seras grumbled under her breath. Surprisingly, Alucard ignored her.

"The nest contains ten vampires," he said instead, turning to the castle, "Three on the bottom floor and six on the top. They're not much."

Which meant he wasn't going to bother. Which meant it was just going to be her and Pip. Fantastic.

"Wait, that's only nine," Pip suddenly said, cutting off her mental griping, "Where's the last one?"

Seras winced at the homicidal glee her master's grin suddenly peeled back into-both rows of his hair-raising shark teeth glinting white in the dark. Pip shuffled a few steps away, looking more than a bit freaked out.

"Up in the tower," Alucard nearly purred, either oblivious to their discomfort or more likely uncaring, "That one seems more promising."

She sighed as Pip backed away a tad more. Though she had grown more or less use to her Master's insatiable bloodlust in the past year, it didn't mean she was all that eager to witness it in action. And after a nauseating plane ride and one unpleasant hike deep into the woods, she was beginning to wonder why she had to go on this tryst at all.

Undoubtedly, her master could've dealt with this completely alone. Since when did they care what France thought of them anyway?

"Alright then, mignonnette, let's get this over with," Pip said, regaining a more professional air. He kneeled down to unlatch the case, pulling out the flamethrower.

Alucard's eyebrow raised slightly in interest.

"Oh? Looks like you brought an interesting toy with you, Frenchman."

"I figured it better to get rid of this place completely," he replied, fiddling with a few buttons on the large green tank, "It's been giving me chills since I was a boy."

"Hm, really?" Alucard turned, staring up at the white tower again, unhinged smile still in place, "Well, I suppose even youcan have a good idea every now and again. Oh, and it seems like we were a bit too loud after all."

He liquefied into the darkness before either of them could even finish processing what he said. Though in another second it didn't matter, since they were barraged by a hail of bullets from the balcony.

"Captain, _move_!" 

Seras dove at Pip, shoving him quickly behind a tree for some cover before joining him behind an adjacent tree. Pip spewed profanity, scrambling to regain his footing and senses, as he dug into his coat for his gun.

"Some fucking early-risers, aren't they?" he joked lightly, before turning over to shoot at their assailants.

"I _told_ you both not to be so loud," she retorted, though with less anger than resigned frustration.

She was already on her elbows and belly, cringing at the cool moistness of the swampy forest floor spreading across the front of her coat and legs. With an effortless swing, she settled the Harkonnen against her shoulder, eying the three grayish figures standing on the balcony.

They were all dark-haired men, and the glow of their eyes beneath the shadowed roof were like macabre stars. None of them had the standard red irises of a vampire, possessing instead a dead black pupil in their left eye and a pale green one in their right that shifted and moved independently as the figures dodged Pip's bullets.

Seras stared, feeling a strange chill crawl down her spine.

"Seras!" Pip suddenly barked, snapping her back to attention, "I could use some fire power, mignonnette!"

He was firing relentlessly now, only taking cover to reload another silver magazine. It took a second for Seras to realize that the figures had multiplied. Swaying masses of ghouls were steadily climbing out from the bushes.

"O-Oh! Yes, sir!"

She shoved down the ominous feeling and took aim.

\---

The sliver of a moon was fully up by the time they'd taken care of all the ghouls. Pip panted slightly, feeling sweat trickle down the back of his neck. Halfway through the fight, the ghouls had begun springing from unexpected places, some only a hair's breadth away from where they were, forcing them to zigzag for cover across the field.

_Mon Dieu, there's too many fucking plants in France,_ he thought, not feeling particularly patriotic, as he tried maneuvering into a better position behind the overgrown thorn bush they were hiding against.

Seras pushed at him absentmindedly when his knee brushed against her hip, eyes still glued to the balcony only a few meters away from them.

There was already one huge bloody splat marring the grass where the Harkonnen had shot the head off the first vampire. The girl had been strangely intent on killing them as soon as possible.

Not that he was complaining. Those lazy-eyes were fucking creepy and while normally being this close, he would've copped a feel by now, he wasn't going to break her concentration.

Pip mopped a hand over his tired face. God, what he would do for a cigarette right now. He never thought he'd even be coming back to this country again, much less to kill bloodsuckers. Now all these annoying memories were coming back to him...

He gazed fixedly at Seras's butt to clear his thoughts. It was so cute and firm and she was so leggy too-

The bush exploded.

Pip cursed hideously and rolled to his side, plastering the clean half of himself in the wet grass and mud. From the corner of his eye, he saw Seras scrambling to her feet with the Harkonnen, breaking apart the rest of the thorny branches in her haste.

She was glaring hostilely at the second vampire, who was standing not even a meter away from her. It was hunched down slightly, with one hand still outstretched from the gigantic rock it had hurled at the bush.

Its aimless green eye swiveled in different directions, while its black eye stared abysmally at them.

Pip felt his blood run colder and colder the more he stared into those eyes. There wasn't a semblance of humanity left in them.

A tense pause ensued, in which the vampire did nothing but stare at them, his green eye shifting sporadically. Then in the next instant, it let out a vicious snarl and leaped at Seras in a blur of speed Pip could barely keep up with.

"Seras!" he yelled, superfluously, since the girl was already moving. Teeth clenched, she blocked the vampire's strike with the neck of her rifle and jumped backwards, attempting to gain enough distance for a shot. But the vampire followed right after her, slashing and swiping in close quarters.

All he could see was a bob of blonde hair as they moved and the silvery arcs of the Harkonnen, as Seras swung it like a wooden stick. Pulling his gun out, he noted for a split second that he was on his last magazine, before firing a few mis-shots at the pair, attempting to distract it.

But the vampire ignored him; it was well aware of who was the bigger problem amongst the two of them and dogged Seras's heels.

"Shit," Pip muttered, mind racing. He wondered if jumping into the fray right now would be a help or hindrance to Seras. At the very least, he thought he could pull the vampire away enough for her to get away. Though half of his throat would probably be gone by the time she could shoot.

_That's why I said this place was bad news._

Pip got up from his kneel and shoved his gun beneath his belt. But before he could commit any incredibly brave and stupid act, he caught a glint of metal from the corner of his eye and whirled around. It was the flamethrower, still laying innocuously in the grass where he had left it.

Never had a weapon looked so beautiful in his life. Pip made a mad sprint for it, nearly tripping as he snatched the thing up, just as the vampire had managed to trip Seras onto her back.

"Incoming, mignonnette!" he yelled by way of warning, and yanked the nozzle up without even shouldering on the straps.

He had just enough time to catch with grim satisfaction, the look of surprise on the vampire's face as it spun around. Thought you could ignore me, eh?

The fire came out in a stream of brilliant orange and red, nearly blinding against the nightscape. The vampire screamed like a banshee as it burned, raising the hairs on Pip's arms. Seras kicked violently out of its grip and scrambled backwards.

They both watched as the creature crumbled into a pile of gooey ashes.

"Ugh," Seras scowled at its remains, brushing herself off fastidiously, before giving Pip a grateful smile, "Thanks for that, Captain."

Pip grinned back. "Not a problem, girlie." And since he couldn't help it, "If I'm not getting any, then a lazy-eyed bloodsucker sure as hell isn't either."

The responding blush was hilariously cute.

"Oh, you're such a pervert, Captain!" she squealed indignantly, hefting the Harkonnen back over her shoulder. The white shade of the rifle made the vivid pink of her cheeks stand out even more.

Pip chuckled quietly; she was such an adorable girl.

"Well, that's almost the last of them," he said, changing the subject, "Did the third one get away?"

Seras nodded quickly, eager to move on from her awkwardness.

"Y-yes, I saw it run back into the house." She pointed hesitantly back at the tower, looking at it with slight anxiety. It was clear the place was starting to look a bit foreboding to her as well.

He sighed, rotating his shoulders, before strapping on the flamethrower.

"We'll just have to go after him then, won't we, mignonnette?" The sooner they finished here, the sooner he could burn this place to the ground.

With a determined breath, Pip began walking toward the house, Seras following at his side.


	3. Chapter 3

The stench of rotting flesh and wood slammed into them like a wall as soon as they entered. Pip gagged, his hand flying to his nose.

"Merde! What the fuck is that?" he choked out, trying not to breathe too much.

Seras shook her head, looking slightly disgusted, but not half as bothered by the scent as he was, though she had the stronger sense of smell.

"I don't know," she replied, staring strangely at the ceiling and walls of the house.

It was a cramp little room, with dusty, mothball-ridden sheets draped over what little furniture seen. There was an open threshold on both sides of the room, half-crushed hinges indicating the doors had been recently ripped off. Dried blood splatters were all over the walls and floor.

"Ugh, let's just find the bastard already," Pip mumbled behind his hand, "Where is he?"

Seras shook her head again, whirling her head every which way.

"I don't know," she repeated, sounding a little frightened now, "They didn't have a scent."

Pip's eye widened, " _What_?"

"I can't sense anything," she continued, "I mean I could when we were fighting earlier, but...they don't have a scent or a presence."

Pip blinked at her. She couldn't sense them. Was that even possible?

"Why didn't I notice that before?" Seras was still murmuring, "I could smell everything just fine until..."

_Until we came in here._ Pip's fingers itched for a cigarette again.

"Hey, it's okay, girlie," he said softly, patting her shoulder as Seras was beginning to grow increasingly more panicked, "If you can't sense them, then we'll just have to do it the old-fashioned way. No big deal, right?"

She stared uneasily at him for a moment, before nodding. Pip gave her shoulder a final pat, before moving past her. Truthfully, without Seras's vampiric senses, he didn't have the slightest idea of where to go. But he thought they may as well start on the right side of the house, which smelled marginally better.

Slowly, guided by whatever weak moonlight managed to filter into the house, Pip headed through the threshold. He could hear Seras's footsteps on the creaking floorboards behind him as she covered his back.

The next room was almost an exact replica of the first, save for a short, narrow hallway at the right. They had almost made it to the end of the room, when Seras suddenly grabbed his bicep.

"Wait," she whispered, eyes incredibly large and blue in the dark, "Wait a minute."

Pip nodded slowly, tightening his grip on the flamethrower's hose as she released him. Seras was turning every which way again, trying to pinpoint the source of her discomfort.

"Something's not right," she said softly, either to herself or Pip, he wasn't sure, "Something's not right, I-"

The vampire smashed into him with the force of a freight train. Pip gasped, the breath knocked out of him instantly as his knees buckled and his face slammed into the dusty floor. Pain and stars exploded across his vision as he heard Seras shout, and there was a high-pitched snarl above him that rattled his bones.

The weight of the flamethrower on his back was ripped at, metal creaking and he was pulled back violently as the metal buckles literally snapped like thread. Pip blinked furiously at the splotches of color in front of his eyes, though even with the pain dulling his senses he could hear the sound of the propane tank crashing into a faraway wall.

"Shit!" he spat, and fumbled blindly for his gun, but was yanked upwards before he could get a grip on it. A large, frigid hand clamped down on his neck, sharp nails digging into the sides, but he couldn't process much else besides how _cold_ it was. He could feel the heat of his own blood against it, and that single feeling overwhelmed all the pain and dizziness muddling him. Suddenly, Pip could see everything-every vivid, horrific detail of the creature's face in razor clarity.

Long gleaming strands of drool dripped steadily from the dark cavern of its mouth. For someone who lived in a house with two vampires for the better half of a year now, it never occurred to him how fucking sharp those teeth were.

The vampire's green eye drifted loosely near the left corner. The black eye was a chunk of dark ice, only the dim light of instinct still persistently flickering. Pip's heart flipped completely onto its side.

"Let him go _now_!" Seras snarled, her voice low, on the edge of something dangerous, "Or I'll blow your head across the room!"

She had the Harkonnen trained, the endless black tunnel of the barrel staring down vacantly at them. Pip gritted his teeth as the vampire pulled him closer by the neck as a shield, to the point where he could feel its clammy, decayed breath across his neck.

"Watch the...fucking..merchandise," he wheezed, able to do little else but snark. Not that it did anything since it didn't even glance at him. It didn't even seem to understand him.

It just kept staring blankly at Seras, like the rest of its nestmates before it, with its head tilted slightly to the side like a dead fish. He didn't know how much time passed in silence, save for the cracking of metal as Seras's grip grew tighter and tighter around her rifle. But when the vampire finally moved, Pip, for a split-second, felt nearly relieved.

The feeling vanished instantly when it pulled him to face-level, regarding him in a way that clearly said it didn't give a fuck about hostages anymore. Its mouth yawned open, creaking like Hell's gates. Somewhere far away, Seras screamed his name

For a moment, Pip felt nothing. There was no life flashing before his eyes, no warm memories to swim back to, no recount of his surprisingly short list of regrets.

Instead he thought ridiculously of wanting a cigarette again.

_Aw, fuck,_ the vampire's face is nothing but a mass of teeth, with fetid death on its breath, _To die like a pathetic dog in front of her..._

Then the vampire's head exploded.

Something blasted right past his left ear as Pip stood frozen, unblinking, even as a shower of blood and brains sprayed all over him. He heard Seras yelp behind him and then the sound of splintering wood, but couldn't turn around.

The vampire's grasp on him loosened by margins, it's claws still curled as it tumbled over. Slowly, its headless corpse slid down sideways and out of his line of sight.

In its place was Alucard, psychotic grin in place, with the Casull in his hand.

"I may have overestimated you slightly, Frenchman," he jeered, tucking the large gun back into his coat, "It seems you don't quite know how to play with your toys."

Pip stared, vampire blood dripping down the bridge of his nose.

"Mr...Alucard...?" he mumbled, slightly in shock.

Seras was more vocal.

"Master, you could've killed him!" she screamed, stomping over, glaring incredulously up at her sire, whose expression didn't change at all.

"Why, yes, police girl, I did just kill the freak that you were so utterly incapable of killing yourself. Please, not an ounce of gratitude is necessary."

_"That's not what I meant!_ You nearly blew the Captain's head off!"

"I believe the key word is 'nearly.'"

A sinking feeling was beginning to form in Pip's gut. Reluctantly, he turned to look over his shoulder, face paling at the cannonball-sized hole the Casull's bullet had left in the opposite wall. The bullet that had whizzed centimeters from his face.

"Merde," he breathed, making both vampires turn to him, "Your aim is ridiculous, Mr. Alucard."

By the frustrated groan Seras made, she'd been expecting some support from him. Alucard's grin just widened.

"Let's just do this and get out of this creepy place," Seras grumbled, annoyed, "Where are the other six, Master?"

"Dead," he replied, and then blinked when they stared incredulously at him.

"What?"

Pip was gaping; though he had been aware Alucard was the stronger vampire from the beginning, he was still learning exactly how much of a powerful fucker he was, particularly when he and Seras had both nearly died just facing two of the vampires down together.

"Master, I can't sense them at all," Seras suddenly brought up, her previous anxiety inching back into her face, "They don't have a scent or aura."

Alucard arched an eyebrow at her, looking momentarily impressed that she knew how to sense auras at all, before shrugging.

"And? What would you expect once you stepped inside?"

Pip and Seras blinked at him. "Huh?"

"It seems whatever happened here in the past, some impressive magic was used," Alucard explained, looking pointedly for whatever reason, at Pip, "The entire house is now essentially acting as a seal for anything supernatural."

Pip's eye bugged slightly. _WHAT?_

"WHAT?!" Seras repeated out loud, looking completely stunned, "How can that be? T-Then, Master, does this mean your powers are-"

"Gone," Alucard finished, sounding more chagrinned than anything else, "It seems all we have retained is our strength and speed."

He didn't even seem remotely concerned, as if he had just misplaced his keys for the third time in a row, instead of lose over the majority of his powers.

Pip was bewildered; he'd been hearing ugly things about the tower since his childhood, mostly decapitated animals and suicides, but he'd never imagined an old rotting place like this could contain something even remotely so threatening.

Seras was on the barest edge of panic, seemingly more distraught by how her master couldn't use his creepy shadow powers anymore than anything pertaining to herself.

"Oh my God, what are we going to do then?" she cried, her hands flittering like nervous birds, "We..We should...call Sir Integra or something!"

Alucard snorted loudly. "Try again."

"We could leave," Pip said. It stunk to high heaven in here anyway.

"Better," the elder vampire commended, "The seal's effect is likely temporary."

"Then what are we standing here for?" Seras demanded, and in a moment of courage or extreme nervousness, reached out to tug at Alucard's arm, "Let's go, Master!"

Alucard's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, but he didn't shake her off and allowed himself to be pulled toward the door, deeply amused. Pip moved to follow, when the flamethrower the vampire had grabbed from him suddenly popped into his mind again.

"Hold on," he said, already turning around, "Let me just get my-"

He cut himself off with a wild swear.

_"HOLY SHIT!"_

There was a woman. There was a woman who hadn't been there before, who was now standing only a fucking meter away from them. A long black widow's dress gathered at her bare feet and ink black hair streamed down her shoulders and back, shadowing her eyes.

He knew she was the master vampire without even thinking.

Pip yanked out his gun, fixing it on her just as the Harkonnen's barrel suddenly sprang out over his shoulder.

"Oh?" Alucard's deep, coldly amused voice boomed from behind, "So you've decided to come down from your tower?"

There was no reply and for a moment, Pip thought she would be mute like all the others.

"Why did you kill my children?" a soft hissing voice asked, pouring ice shards down Pip's spine, "They did nothing to you."

Alucard chuckled maliciously, and the wooden floorboards creaked as he walked forward.

"What you and your children have done is no concern of mine," he said nonchalantly, and the dark shadow he cast over the room made his eyes glow even redder than before, "This is where you'll join them. That's all you need to know."

She lifted her head. Pip heard Seras choke down a gasp. The woman had the same unnerving combination of green and black eyes, but there was a ring of yellow-blue rot around the lazy one, making it bulge outward, as if it were about to pop out of the socket.

The black eye was flatter than the other vampires' had been and narrower, with a distinctive Asian quality to it. It was the single most hateful, most overwhelmingly evil look he'd ever seen.

Pip swallowed hard, feeling the acidic burn of bile crawling up his throat.

"You talk so big," she rasped, "But in here you are only a weak thing. I will rip out your tongues and eyes, one for each of my children."

Pip's blood froze in his veins.

Alucard's smile didn't change.

"Is that right?"

Then with speed beyond Pip's imagination, the Jackal was out. The resounding explosion of gunfire rattled his brain.

The woman hissed, taken by complete surprise, and barely managed to twist to the side in time. Pip watched with unadulterated horror as the bullet sliced through the air, hitting the puddle of liquid that had formed around his punctured flamethrower instead.

It ignited instantly. The flames burst forth like some wild animal, eating away rapidly at the veiled furniture, making easy kindling out of the dry air and rotted wood. In a matter of seconds the whole back wall was on fire.

Seras gasped, the Harkonnen nearly slipping from her grip, as Pip backed away further toward the other side of the room. The heat was already rising, smothering the air with smoke and ember and crackling flames.

Neither Alucard nor the woman seemed to even notice.

She gave the fire a cursory glance, utterly expressionless.

"Are you to destroy everything you see?" she asked dully.

Alucard grinned widened, and the first horrific glimpses of his monstrous dentistry glinted beneath his thin lips.

"It's a more decorative setting don't you think?" he lilted, "What more fitting place for monsters to fight than in Hell?"

The woman stared at him. "Hell?"

She straightened, skeletal hands slipping together behind her back. In the flickering red shadows, her green eye swiveled and bulged.

"Hell is much lovelier than this."

What she pulled from behind her was a gray blur, one that he didn't have time to distinguish before he was staring down into its pitch black barrel.

The woman's lips twitched, the first cracks of a cruel smile showing through and Pip has only enough time to think 'Holy fuck, that's a goddamn fucking bazooka,' before he has to run for his life.

The next few moments were encompassed by a sound not unlike a rocket taking off two centimeters from his ear. Pip dove blindly toward the ground, hearing wood splintering and the roof groaning and the accompanying gust that swept the stench of charred death and smoke up his nostrils. He choked and gagged slightly, waving his hand fiercely in an attempt to dispel the smell and smoke.

Something soft and light suddenly collided into his side-it was Seras, struggling to right herself again with the massive Harkonnen still in her clutches. But before Pip had time to think some completely inappropriate and ridiculous perverted thought, she was wrenching him to his feet, nearly pulling his arm out of his socket.

Good thing too, as the next instant he had to dodge wildly again. The cannonball sized hole the Jackal made had been torn open, like a gaping wound across the wall, and he could hear the destruction of the wooden panels and furniture of the adjacent room. Creaks and groans wailed out from the ceiling, a shower of dust and dirt and other foul smelling things began pouring down, feeding the flames higher.

Pip wondered for a moment what exactly was supporting the house at all.

Beyond the thickening smoke, he could still make out Alucard, his red eyes glittering eagerly, even as flames nearly licked the fringes of his coat. The Casull was drawn out now too, the white and black sheen of the twin guns taking on an orange tinge as they were raised them.

He fired endlessly, the intense recoils of each gun a mere hitch in his large hands. The woman turned and spun and twisted like a writhing snake, as she tried to dodge the relentless hail of bullets.

Finally, one damning misstep blew a hole the size of a small crater through her left side. Blood spurted out in arcs, as she screeched insanely and crumpled to one knee, a hand clenching down on the flesh near the wound, red pouring down her white skin in vivid splotches.

Not missing a beat, Alucard shot her in the elbow next.

The shattering of pale bone made the bile rise in Pip's throat again. The woman howled like a dying animal, her dark blood congealing in a puddle, staining the bottom of her dress. With a deafening crash, she dropped the bazooka.

"You rabid dog!" she shrieked, her black eye shrunken to a pinpoint, every semblance of previous calm gone, "I'm going to feast on your heart!"

The hatred in her eyes was overwhelming, dark and thick like oblivion, even half-dead as she was. Pip's stomach plunged.

The woman straightened slightly from her crouch. Her eyes glinted madly, dancing with wickedness, and for a moment it looked like she was going to leap at them.

But in the next instant, she pivoted sharply, her hair flying like snakes and tore down the opposite, flame-engulfed hallway, leaving them to stare at her bloody footprints.

Alucard barked a sharp, manic laugh.

"So you think you can run, huh?" he said, tsk-ing as he shook his head like a deranged child, "YOU THINK YOU CAN RUN, HUH?"

He was clearly lost in some kind of bloodlust; his barely concealed madness showing through like a bright stain. Being the physically closest to the vampire at the current moment, Pip did what he'd been advised to do with Alucard from the start.

He slowly backed the fuck away.

From the corner of his eye, he caught the pink of Seras's jacket as she shifted next to him, and thought that she was trying to keep her distance too.

She proved him wrong instantly by shoving past him.

"Master!" she screamed, nearly tripping in her urgency. Pip gaped as she grabbed for her sire through the flames, "Master, no!"

But Alucard's mind was somewhere long gone. He didn't even look their way when he shot off down the hall, guns in hand, parting the fire like a curtain. Seras's hand barely grazed over the corner of his overcoat before clenching over nothing.

"SHIT!" she snarled, and her voice was so angry that all Pip could do for a moment was blink.

Then the ceiling began to creak and groan loudly as the flames finally reached it. A deep rumble shook the area as the floor vibrated beneath their feet. Several chunks of the walls crumbled down and around them.

Pip backed away uneasily. He'd been through too fucking much to not see an imminent collapse when one was staring him in the face.

"We better get out of here, mignonette," he advised nervously, "This place can't hold up much longer."

He didn't get a reply and when he turned to her, his eye nearly popped out of its socket. Seras had hefted the Harkonnen onto her back again, and was trying to hurry through the sea of flames.

"What the hell are you doing?!" he squawked, yanking her back, only for the girl to fend him off.

"I'm going after Master, Captain," she said, her face all scrunched in determination, "There's something wrong with that woman and Master might need my help."

Pip just stared at her, having trouble processing anything that was being said to him.

" _What?_ No, no, Seras, _he_ will be fine. _We_ need to get the hell out of here, before this place becomes our grave!"

The draculina just shook her head.

"There's something very bad about her, Captain," she said, and the haunted tone of her voice sent a rush of cold down Pip's back despite the sweltering heat, "And my master doesn't have his powers."

"He seems to be doing just fine without them," Pip retorted helplessly, but Seras just ignored him.

"Please get outside, sir," she said, turning toward the nearly incinerated hallway, "I need to go find my master."

And then she was gone, the last of her pale blonde hair vanishing into the inferno. Even the pitter patter of her footsteps was swallowed by the crackling and snapping of the wooden support beams. Pip stared after her, glued to his spot.

The rational part of him was snapping at him to haul ass. Yes, there was something severely off and fucked up about that woman, but he was just a frail human made of flesh and bone and hair, who was probably going to burn to death before he could ever do anything about her. If the house collapsed, then he was the only one who would die with near absolute certainty, because Alucard was a crazy apocalyptic monster and Seras was possibly made out of titanium and it's not like he could actually help or that he was needed, he should just leave them here before he was roasted alive...

_Yeah, keep telling yourself that, mon ami._

Pip swore loudly, and sprinted after her, his hand clamped like a vice around his gun.

_Goddamn vampires._


	4. Chapter 4

Alucard found that he quite liked France. First, there was the lack of rain; it took him two hundred years to get use to the ridiculous amounts of rain that plagued England, so France already got high marks just for that. Second were the women. All such lovely, provocative little creatures. With their tight skirts and cleavage-filled tank tops. Only in his most delusional dreams could he see his master ever dressed like that.

Of course it'd been slightly annoying to have to wake up at noon to fly over the channel, but he had the best time drinking from his virgin donor as she writhed and groaned in French, large breasts practically popping out of her skimpy outfit. He even managed to make a flight attendant wet himself just by smiling at him, which was always hilarious.

By the time they'd arrived at the village, he'd been in a great mood, and it only seemed to be getting better.

"My, what a resilient little thing you are," he purred, sliding the Jackal into the folds of his coat. There wasn't any need for it now.

The woman was crumpled on her knees, muscle and tendon hanging by thin slivers of flesh. White broken bone protruded out of her at jutting angles and her mangled right arm had been blown somewhere up into the rafters. He was pretty sure there was more blood in the lake at her feet by this point than in her actual body.

Yet somehow she was still alive.

"Is it too much to hope you'll regenerate?" he drawled, reloading the Casull.

She hissed and spat at him, crimson drool dripping from her lip.

"You...bastard," she croaked, her eye twitching again, "I'll kill you..."

What pain tolerance. Alucard was a bit impressed. While as pathetically weak as he thought, she was still semi-standing after he'd emptied an entire magazine into her, which was more than could be said about most things he came across. His curiosity was slightly piqued.

"What's your name?"

She blinked, surprised by the question, and for a moment, stared like a dumb animal at him.

"...Why?" she eventually snapped, black eye narrowed into a suspicious slit.

Alucard shrugged. "It's been a good five or six decades since I fought anything half-way decent. I like to remember the special ones."

The woman stared at him, an incredulous scowl twitching at her lips. Her black eye widened however, gaining a more bemused look as her green eye hung loosely in the right corner.

"My children called me...Kanna," she rasped eventually.

"Kanna," he repeated, grinning, "What an interesting one you are. I'm almost curious about what your blood will tell me."

"Have you forgotten you've lost that ability?" she hissed, "Is it not clear yet you have no powers in here?"

"Is it not clear yet I don't need them?" Alucard crooned, "Besides, your little spell will end soon enough."

She whipped her head toward him, blood-soaked hair smacking wetly against her chest. Her decayed face was twisted and speechless. Like she thought he hadn't known it was her from the beginning. How cute.

"You must've felt quite at home here. This house is practically flooded with your energy," he lilted, a mad glint in his eye, "But your seal is...nothing compared to the ones I've seen. Once the fires burn through the walls of this tower, it'll break easily."

He didn't have to say anymore about what would happen after.

She was silent, but the stiff set of her shoulders and the lowered black eye showed the implication got through. Alucard smirked; he supposed the professional thing to do would have been to blow her brains across the wall, but he actually kind of wanted her blood.

The energy holding the seal in place was incredibly weak, like a loose, frayed scarf unraveling around his throat, but the force exuding from Kanna was much more concentrated, lashing out in sharp, icy waves. The imbalance was intriguing and he wanted to know why.

Until then, he slipped a hand into his pocket and leaned against the wall, surveying the tower room. Rotted wallpaper hung off the woodwork like loose pieces of meat on a bone. Most of the walls had splintered into fisted sized holes from the Casull, and then several large gaping ones from the Jackal.

His smirk turned into a malicious grin when he saw the trail of black smoke curling through them from downstairs. It wouldn't be long now.

In the meantime, since it would be boring just to stand here waiting...

"I noticed all your fledglings inherited your interesting facial features," he commented airily, "Tell me, how did you do that? I've been thinking red eyes would look better on the police girl."

The responding roar was expectant and hilarious.

"How dare you even speak of them, you monster!" she screeched, two strangely elongated fangs emerging behind her lips, "They were nothing but worms before me! I made them into perfection! I made them _beautiful!_ "

"Oh, am I the monster now? Can you even see out of that right eye of yours? Your fledglings certainly couldn't. I killed them each with one shot," Alucard's demonic eyes lit up excitedly, "Would you like to know which ones screamed the loudest?"

She was flying at him before he'd even finished the sentence. A feral scream tore from her throat, her black eye almost aflame with hatred and a shower of her own blood followed after her in a splattered trail.

Alucard just kept smiling, flipped the Casull in his hand and shot her in the knee. Her shriek choked off abruptly and she fell in a jumbled heap at his feet, too immobilized by pain to even scream.

"You think you're beautiful, do you?" he asked softly, voice low and predatory, "You turned them, because you thought you were doing them a favor right? Those brain-dead, half-blind pieces of trash."

"I gave up everything to be this," she rasped, glaring hatefully up at him, her bloodied black hair plastered over half her face, "Those men begged like dogs for beauty and eternal youth such as ours. What does a creature like you know about what I can do? Wielding your silver-armed guns, killing your own kind at the behest of humans, you've probably never had to make any choices or build yourself up. Power just fell into your lap like a dead thing. You—"

Her next words cut off by a hideous chuckle from Alucard, whose eyes were redder and colder than the blood congealing on the floorboards.

"Silly deluded little girl, very few of our kind can be beautiful," he giggled, "And it'll never be you or me."

"No, you're wrong," she whispered, shaking her head violently, "You're wrong. I gave up _everything_ —"

"Then why don't you try it out?" he asked, darkly amused, and slid the Casull into his coat. He could feel the licks of flames curling around the seal embedded into the walls of the tower; parts of the wallpaper were already starting to smolder and crumble.

"Show me exactly what you are capable of doing." Something sinister glinted in her eye after he said that, and Alucard's grin widened, a giddy type of eagerness beginning to flare up inside him and he could feel the writhing of his familiars as they unwound beneath his skin—

_CRASH_

"Master!"

"Mr. Alucard!"

Alucard would never, for the rest of his miserable existence, understand why he decided to turn around.

"...Police girl?" He blinked at his petite fledgling, who stood with her Harkonnen towering over her back and at Pip who was slightly panting, gun drawn out and braid coming loose, and thought for a moment that he'd almost forgotten the man had come along.

Then every other thought was blown clear out of his head as the most excruciating pain he'd ever felt since Abraham's stake exploded through his body.

_Wha—?_

His familiars screamed, a cacophonous chorus of pain echoing through his head, so sudden and obliteratingly loud that he saw nothing but black for a moment. Somewhere within that twisting mess of sound, he heard Seras and Pip yelling.

When the darkness faded enough that he could make out the room again, the first thing he saw was a thin pale hand protruding from his chest. Blood blossomed across his white shirt like macabre flowers.

"I'll show you," a raspy female voice whispered behind him, "I'll show you _exactly_ what I can do."

A torrent of hot white light flooded across his vision, scalding the back of his eyelids and the inside of his ears. It was bubbling up his throat too, scorching off flesh and muscle, burning away his voice into nothing. His familiars screamed as they cooked inside him.

Maybe he screamed as well. He didn't know; his vision and hearing were filled with white fire, and something much like a sizzling knife was in his throat. He wondered for a split second, if she had somehow sent him into the sun, and felt a very real streak of panic course through him.

But then a familiar hiss of a voice came slithering through his mind.

_It seems your childe and the human are quite loyal to you,_ Kanna murmured, sounding bemused, if not for the deranged, gleeful undertone, _Such devotion should be rewarded._

The words have barely landed across his consciousness when the burning in his eyes and ears vanished. The whole room came colliding into his reopened senses like a concrete wall and he scrambled to absorb it all in short disjointed increments.

The walls were already on fire. The ceiling and floors were splintering. The police girl was raging, eyes bloody red with fury. The Frenchman was cursing hideously, white-knuckling his gun. They were both sprinting at him.

And the hand in his chest was glowing white, blistering and hot and waiting.

Alucard opened his mouth to yell, to roar _Stop you idiots,_ but the white destructive heat in his throat was still there and his voice wouldn't come at all.

Clenching his teeth, he turned to the next best alternative and half-twisted around. He almost shoved the Jackal's muzzle right through her forehead, blood be damned, and only took a moment to stare into the green eye that was looking directly at him.

_Too late..._ her voice hummed and he heard two screams behind him.

He blew her head off at such a close range it bounced off the opposite wall nearly ten meters away. But Alucard didn't have time to enjoy the view.

Seras and Pip were both on the floor, gasping wildly, with pupils shrunken into pinpoints. Chunks of the rafters began breaking off and crashing a hair's breadth away from them.

Alucard shoved Kanna's body off of him with a violent kick, not even feeling the pain as the hand dislodged from his chest. His flesh was already threading back together even as he walked briskly to the pair. He picked up Seras by the waist and slung Pip over his shoulder as the ceiling above them let out a final pathetic groan.

Opening a portal on a non-flaming section of the wall, Alucard stepped inside with one angry, ferocious thought in mind.

_I'm razing France to the ground._

\---

Seras awoke in total darkness. She could feel soft wet grass beneath her and hear the night crickets chirping in a sweeping arc all around her. The air was filled with the stench of charred wood and ash. She blinked, saw nothing, and for a second couldn't remember what happened.

_What—_

Then it instantly came crashing back to her. The mission, the woman, the collapsing tower as she sprinted up the stairs with Pip at her heels, the hand that burst from her master's chest, how everything leaked red in her eyes and then white hot like they were on fire. After that, there'd been nothing but darkness.

Seras sat up slowly, feeling aches and bruises all over her. Wherever she was, most likely outside, it was pitch black and though she blinked several times, she couldn't see anything.

"Master?" she ventured nervously after a moment, and nearly leaped into outer space when a large gloved hand landed on hers.

"Master," Seras sighed in relief, "Are you alright?"

There was no reply, but her hand was squeezed once firmly in reassurance. Seras's eyebrows raised, but as long as he was okay, she didn't pay any mind. Alucard's scream was still ringing faintly in her ears, chilling her blood and bones.

"That's good," she breathed, looked up from his hand, hoping to see his face, even if it had an annoying grin on.

Everything was still black. She couldn't even see the glow of Alucard's eyes. As rapidly as it'd disappeared, a cool panic began trickling through her mind again.

"Are we in a cave or something?" she asked, slightly nervous, "It's pitch black here. Didn't you say we could see perfectly in the dark? I can't see anything and-"

She cut herself off with a yelp as two large hands suddenly grabbed both sides of her face and yanked her forward.

"Ow! Master what on Earth-?!"

Alucard's long cool fingers were over one of her eyes, prying them wide open. Seras struggled.

"Master, stop! Stop, that _hurts,_ what are you—"

She froze. It suddenly hit her with the force of a jackhammer.

"Oh my God," she murmured, almost to herself, "It's not dark at all is it?"

Again there was only silence. But her master's hands stilled on her face and then released her. Seras just sat there, staring out at who knows what, all her thoughts jumbling together in her head.

Blind. She was blind.

"Oh my God," she repeated, barely feeling the words leave her lips, " _Holy shit._ "

Her master shifted softly beside her, almost uncomfortably. Then his hand was over hers again. She nearly shook him off, thinking he was about to embark on some horribly misguided attempt at comfort.

But then a soft pulse of energy went through her from the contact; it was that same dark, smooth, almost tangible touch against her mind she'd come to know so well.

_Police girl..._ Alucard's voice was a mere wisp, so thin and weak she barely registered it.

"Master?" she asked out loud, full on panicking now. She had no idea what was going on, but all of sudden she was blind and Alucard's presence seemed somehow...faded, not half as immense as it was only a few hours ago. The hand over hers tightened its grip.

_...speak..._

_What?_ Seras shook her head; it was like trying to understand someone talking underwater.

"Master, I can't understand you. Why don't you just say it?"

She winced when the tight hold he had over her hand turned vice-like, but didn't pull back when his mental touch seemed to grow stronger as well.

_Can't speak..._

For a second, Seras hoped she misunderstood him again, but already knew deep down that she hadn't. She was blind and he was mute.

"Dear God," she said simply, and because it was the second thing that popped into her head, added, "Sir Integra is going to kill us."

The hand over hers loosened slightly, as if the equivalent of rolled eyes, but Alucard sent out another mental wave before she could begin to properly freak out.

_..Frenchman..._

She had to focus incredibly hard to discern what he'd said, but she gasped and leaped to her feet when she did.

"Captain Bernadette!" she exclaimed, feeling incredibly ashamed that she had forgotten all about him, "He was next to me when the target hit us with that weird white light! He could be hurt, Master, we have to find him!"

Seras whirled around, only to remain glued to the spot when she realized all over again she had no idea where anything was.

"Eh, uh, Master? Where are we exactly...?"

The soft tip of Alucard's coat grazed her thigh as he brushed past her. She could just imagine the exasperated look he had on right now, and felt a bit foolish and nervous standing there as she heard his footsteps fade away. Another instant later, however, something large was dumped to her left, making her jump.

"...je vous en prie, mignonette..!" Came Pip's sleep-befuddled voice and Seras slapped her hand against her forehead.

"Good God, Captain, wake up!" she yelled, fighting the ferocious blush spreading across her face when she thought of what he was dreaming about. And with her master standing right there!

"..huh? Wha?" Seras waited in mortified silence as she listened to Pip get oriented again. His return to awareness was soon punctuated with a surprised yell at near ear-splitting volume.

"MON DIEU, MIGNONETTE, WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR EYES?!"

Seras winced at the loud sound against her sensitive vampiric hearing.

"We're in trouble, Captain. Listen, that woman did something to Master and I, and now we can't—"

"WHAT?"

Seras blinked uselessly at the interruption.

"...Uh, I said that woman did something to Master and I—"

"WHAT?" Pip suddenly hollered again, which he followed with a series of smacking sounds that reminded her of what she used to do when water got into her ears. A lump of dread began forming at the base of her stomach.

"Oh, no."

"WHAT? SORRY, MIGNONETTE, I CAN'T HEAR YOU...!"

Whatever the rest of his sentence would have been was interrupted by a loud sudden 'clap' against his mouth.

"MIFER ARUCARD?!" Pip's surprised and slightly muffled voice said, from under what was mostly likely her master's hand, "WUNT ARE YOU 'OING?"

His question was replied with a louder, more insistent clap across his mouth that sounded like it just about knocked the man over. There was another bout of silence before Pip seemed to understand what was trying to be said.

"Too loud?" he asked hesitantly, and she nodded furiously, her crackling ears grateful for the respite as she heard Alucard's hand leave Pip's face.

"Sorry, I can't fucking hear anything," came Pip's sheepish reply, and Seras felt Alucard's hand land on her shoulder.

_...deaf..._

Though she guessed as much, Seras's stomach dropped into her knees.

"Oh, great," she muttered, throwing her hands up a tad hysterically, "What the hell are we suppose to do now?"

_Blind, deaf and mute,_ she thought in her head, as if it was suppose to somehow make her feel better, which it didn't. At the current point, Seras was having trouble just figuring out how they were even suppose to communicate with each other, let alone get back to England or find out what happened.

"Um, I'm still a little confused on the details, if anyone wouldn't mind..." Pip's puzzled voice floated over. Alucard's hand abruptly left her shoulder.

She stood there dumbly as she listened to her master saunter away. Then there was something like wood snapping in half, before his footsteps returned. She was hearing him scrape something against the dirt ground when she got it.

"That's a good idea, Master," she said, smiling slightly. For some reason, it had never occurred to her that Alucard could simply write down what he wanted to say.

Pip had a more negative reaction.

"Police girl's blind. I'm mute. And you're deaf," he read out loud, Alucard's bluntness practically palpable through the words. There was a long beat and then—

" _WHAT?!_ "

Seras raced to protect her ears, though she could still hear her master stabbing something furiously into the dirt. It must've been along the lines of 'Shut up now or I'll eat your face' because Pip immediately quieted down again.

"What-this-how—?!" Pip's confusion sounded even less coherent than usual now that he couldn't hear. Inexplicably, Seras imagined him with his eyes bulging and his mouth flapping like a goldfish and had to smother an inappropriate giggle.

Her master was scratching something down again.

"It was a spell," Pip read out loud, a little dazedly, "She was also the one who created the seal for this place—wait, you mean that woman with the rotting face?"

"Okay, why don't we just have her reverse the spell?" Seras added in quickly, feeling a small ray of hope for the first time, "You have her tied up somewhere, right Master?"

There was an ominous pause. Then more scratching…

"She's dead," went Pip flatly.

And like that, Seras's soaring ship of hope and joy crashed and burned and liquefied into a soppy molten mess, which then killed all plants and animals within a 10 kilometer radius.

"Bloody hell," she said blankly, as her master continued writing.

"We should've been released from her spell by now—maybe you didn't kill her then?"

Scratch Scratch Scratch

"I did, her head boun—Dieu, mignonette, I think she's definitely dead."

"Stop crushing my hopes even more than they've already been crushed."

"What?"

Seras restrained the urge to bang her head several times against a tree. First off, because she still didn't know where they were standing and secondly, it wouldn't have been helpful at all toward their already incredibly inefficient triad of communication.

"Never mind."

"What?"

"…"

Scratch Scratch

"Police girl, call Integra and tell her what happened."

"What?!" she squawked, unsure where either men was and settled for glaring in their general direction, "Why do I have to call her?"

Scratch Scratch Scratch

"In case you still haven't noticed, I can't speak and the Frenchman can't hear. You're the only option, so call her and get her to send a jet to pick us up—geez, good luck with that, ma cherie."

Seras sputtered. She knew it made sense, but having to explain to Integra the situation was not the most appealing thing she could think of, particularly since this was suppose to be an easy mission.

"She's going to be so angry though," she mewled, which was only replied by Alucard taking her wrist and plopping his already-dialed phone into her hand.

Seras sighed in defeat and wrapped her fingers around the phone. For a ridiculous moment, she cursed being blind instead of deaf or mute; what exactly were the benefits of it compared to the other two? And she could practically feel the waves of relief and pity coming from her master and Pip, the cowardly jerks.

_Why is this my life?_ Seras wondered in vague, ineffectual despair, as the sound of the dial tone rang ominously against her ear.


	5. Chapter 5

In retrospect, Integra wondered why she thought the whole mission could've shaped up in any other way than it did. 

"What do they mean they're not there?" she demanded, squinting angrily at the report in front of her, "Did they mix up the meeting spots or something?"

Walter, who had pulled up a chair by her desk, calmly sifted through another stack of reports.

"It seems the agreement was that our team would head into the forest alone, dispose of the target, and return to a clearing near the forest's edge at 3:30 AM for the flight," he said, gray eyes rolling down the columns of words before cringing at a particular section, "Apparently, they never showed and the plane eventually departed at 4:30."

Integra's eyes nearly popped out of her skull.

"They _left_ them?" she roared, slamming her fist down so hard against the desk, Walter had to dive forward to rescue her teacup before it shattered all over the floor.

"Shall I get one of the officials on the phone, Sir Integra?" he asked hesitantly, placing the china onto a nearby bookshelf out of harm's way. 

"No, don't bother," Integra snapped, squeezing the life out of another fountain pen, "Their network is completely disorganized. Odds are we'll be told the exact same thing again."

 _Incompetent fools._ She clenched her teeth furiously at the mere thought of needing to contact anyone from the French government at all. God knows she had tried her best to keep Hellsing out of foreign affairs for this precise reason. 

"Why the hell did they leave?" she demanded, having a death glare battle with the report.

"It seems the land the forest sits on is partly swamp," her butler quickly answered, flipping to another page, "It can get very moist and humid at night and they hadn't wanted to risk being stranded if the engine broke down."

Integra nearly snapped her pen in half. 

"That's complete bullshit," she growled, "If the engine was an issue, they should've waited at the village instead of flying off. Bloody cowards were probably too scared to wait any longer in the area."

"Yes, well, the French aren't particularly known for their bravery," Walter couldn't help but comment. "Should we alert Her Majesty about this?"

Integra sighed in frustration, letting go of the mangled pen.

"My word alone won't move her on the matter," she said, reaching for her cigar case, "She's been reassured so many times on how low-level the mission is, she might not even take it seriously. And the Queen already knows I've been against these…relations from the beginning." 

Walter nodded. "I see. Then perhaps if I called Sir Islands? It would likely hold more weight if the whole council implored her to intervene."

Integra released an even deeper, more disgusted sigh.

"You don't have to call anyone, Walter," she replied, sliding the case open, "At the current moment, the Round Table will not want to support me."

Walter blinked. "…Pardon?"

"To them, this arrangement is an easy way to make friends," she explained, looking repulsed that the words even came out of her mouth, "They'll just think I'm being difficult and unreasonable." 

"But surely it would be even worse in the end if something had happened to them and the French took no action."

Integra nodded silently, slipping a cigar between her lips. Though she was having trouble believing anything could've happened, she knew Walter had a point. And after getting into the fourth passive-aggressive argument with Sir Islands about the matter, he had finally gotten fed up and told her he'd talk to the rest of the council. But for the moment, her hands were more or less tied.

"The only one I really want on the phone right now is Alucard," she muttered, after a pause, "I swear if he's just wasting his time having fun right now…"

"Shall I give him a try, Ma'am?" Walter offered, trying to calm her rising fury, "Though I recall he keeps his phone off unless he needs it."

 _Which completely defeats the purpose of having a phone,_ Integra thought, chewing on her cigar in severe irritation as she waved a hand at her butler.

"Go ahead, Walter."

The words had barely left her mouth when the phone suddenly started ringing, making them both jump clear out of their seats. Walter, who recovered first, stared at the caller ID.

"…It's Alucard."

He then had to dodge Integra's hand, which shot out in a tan blur, as she smashed down on the speaker button, and began screaming the second the line was connected.

"ALUCARD!! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?" 

Instead of the bout of deep, demented cackling she'd expected however, there was only silence. 

And then…

A whimper? Integra's eyes widened. 

"Alucard?" she ventured again, voice instantly softening with concern.

Walter leaned in closer as well, wondering if he had simply imagined the sound. There was distant shuffling on the other end, like a hand covering up the mouthpiece, before a muffled girlish voice spoke up eventually.

"…see? I told you. She's so mad already, I haven't even said anything yet…"

Integra and Walter sent confused glances at each other.

"Seras?" the former asked flatly after a beat. 

Their suspicions were confirmed when the draculina yelped in surprise at being heard. A series of strange thumps then commenced, as if the phone had been thrown into the air like a hot potato and landed on its side some distance away. Seras's alarmed babbling could be heard in the background. 

"I'm sorry, I was surprised! Oh bollocks, is it broken? Please don't be broken. Where is it? You could help me, you know! I didn't exactly see where it went!" 

Walter stared, his eyebrows quickly reaching the apex of his forehead, while Integra's temper began to rise again—it certainly didn't sound like anything was horribly wrong to her.

"Seras!" she barked, instantly silencing the movement on the other end, "Answer me right now!"

There was a panicked squeak and then some hasty fumbling, before Seras's nervous, stammering voice came back on. 

"S-Sir Integra. …How are you, ma'am?"

With great difficulty, Integra fought down a sigh. "Where are you, Seras? Why are you using Alucard's phone? Did you get separated?"

"Eh, uh," Seras stumbled, sounding unsure which question to answer first, "No, we didn't get separated. We're kind of still at the castle—"

"You’re still where?" Integra interrupted sharply, and Walter felt a pang of sympathy for the young draculina when he saw the wrathful glint in her eye.

"Are you aware Seras, that you are suppose to be over the English channel right now?" she asked coolly, in an almost conversational tone, "Kilometers away from France and its castle and the nightmare that this mission predictably became. It leaves me to wonder why exactly I received a report detailing that none of you ever showed at the rendezvous point, or why I'm receiving a call from you now, or if you're planning to ask me to send a jet to go get you, since Alucard wanted to play games and spent the whole night chasing around vampires little above the level of trash." 

Silence.

Then, in a very meek and soft voice…

"…oh yeah, the rendezvous point…"

Integra struggled not to hang up right there and let them figure out their own way back. The fact that Alucard had forgotten was only a half-surprise, but both Seras and Pip as well was just disappointing. 

"Seras, your next words need to be a _very good_ reason for why you're in the middle of a swampy forest in France instead of landing on the roof above me." _God help all three of you if it's not._

Another quiet, hesitant pause. Walter gently gathered and straightened the messy stack of papers sprawled across Integra's desk, still wondering distantly why Seras was using Alucard's phone, or why Alucard hadn't simply taken it by now, when Seras's answer nearly made him spill the reports all over the floor.

"I…I'm blind, Sir Integra."

Walter gaped at the phone, the green speaker light glowing obliviously up at them. Integra's face was still and expressionless, like she hadn't even heard the words or that they'd sailed clear over her head.

After a long beat, she finally spoke, "…What do you mean you're blind?" And then back-tracked when she realized how ridiculous that sounded. 

"What happened?" she asked shortly instead.

The next few minutes were filled with Seras's jittery and nervous voice as she explained what had occurred at the castle, including the seal on Alucard's powers and the subsequent spell cast by the female vampire.

As she spoke, Integra's face grew colder and colder, while Walter's eyes were quickly becoming the size of dinner plates. In all his years as a Hellsing agent he had never encountered anything that could permanently impair high-level vampires such as Alucard, or even younger ones like Seras. He chanced a worried glance at Integra, about to ask if he should send a plane to pick them up, when she suddenly spoke again.

"I must say I give you points for creativity, Seras," she said blandly, "You really are Alucard's childe." 

Walter stared at her and there was a shocked silence on the other end.

"…you don't believe us?" Seras's horrified voice eventually asked.

And every inch of Integra' calm façade evaporated like water on a hot pan.

"Of course I don't believe you!" she yelled, slamming her hands down on her desk as she stood, "What kind of story was that?! Now get your arses home right now!"

"S-Sir Integra!" Walter stammered incredulously at her, while Seras yelped in fright.

"What do you want me to say, Walter?" Integra snapped, stabbing a finger at the phone, "I was just told a FREAK vampire managed to completely blind one of my top agents and seal the other one's powers with magical white light!"

"She wasn't a FREAK though!" Seras cried, "…at least, she didn't seem like one. And actually, the white light wasn't the seal, the tower was…"

Integra's eye twitched. There was shuffling heard on the other end and then a familiar, strangely loud, French voice asked, "So did we get a ride yet, Mr. Alucard?"

A throbbing vein instantly appeared on Integra's temple. So, His Majesty had been standing there without a sound the whole time, huh? She could just imagine him silently bursting a gut right now as he watched his fledgling get chewed out for him—the image just feeding her rage.

"Let me talk to Alucard," she demanded, "Give him the phone."

There was a pause, but the voice that came on was Seras's again.

"I…I can't, Sir Integra," she said softly.

Integra's eyes widened, certain that she'd misheard. Walter, who had expected Alucard to have at least said something by now, was beginning to find the whole strange situation a bit foreboding.

"Sir Integra, perhaps we should just send a plane for them," he advised uneasily, "We can sort everything out better once they've returned." But Integra seemed to have almost forgotten he was there.

"Give him the phone, Seras," Integra repeated through gritted teeth, "Stop protecting him. Whatever he threatened to do to you will pale in comparison to what I'll do if you don't listen to me right. now."

"No, ma'am, you don't understand, Master can't—"

"Alucard!" Integra roared, having heard nothing past the word 'no,' "Answer me, servant!" She snapped her cigar in half in her hand, fermented tobacco leaves smearing all over her white glove, death threats on the tip of her tongue. 

They died in her mouth a second later, when a choked gasp came over the phone.

Integra blinked and Walter paled slightly. "…Alucard?" she ventured after a moment, weirdly at the same time as Seras's anxious, "Master?"

There was something like a 'thud' and then Integra and Walter flinched backwards as Pip's suddenly deafening voice crackled through the speaker.

"MERDE! MR. ALUCARD ARE YOU—HEY, HEY!" came his panicked yelling, nearly drowning out Seras's equally panicked screams of "What?! What just happened?!"

Instead of answering her however, there was a fumbling of the phone as if it was being grabbed, before Pip's voice was booming at them.

"BOSS, HE'S MUTE! YOU'RE HURTING HIM!"

Integra blinked again, not processing what was being bellowed at her. Alucard is… 

Something coughed violently in the background, interspersing each fit with short, unproductive wheezes of breath. Integra's blood promptly froze in her veins. 

"Alucard, you may stop speaking now," she said shakily and the coughing almost immediately dissolved into labored panting, followed by Pip's French curses. Seras's soft, frightened voice drifted by along with the rustle of grass, as if she was groping through them. "Captain? Captain, where…?"

"Over here, girlie," Pip said suddenly, still abnormally loud but considerably softer than before, "Here, take the phone. I can't hear what she's saying anyway." 

_Can't hear…?_ A sinking feeling of horror was crawling down Integra's spine. There was still not a sound from Alucard other than his distressed gasping. Integra shoved down on the cool panic beginning to try to envelope her head. 

"Walter," she said quietly, "Prepare a plane for immediate departure."

The man nodded and hurried from the room without a word. Integra didn't even look up, her cerulean eyes glued to the phone.

"Seras," she said softly once the door closed, and was answered with silence for a moment before a small voice replied, "Y-Yes Sir Integra?"

"A plane will be arriving for you in about two hours. Wait for it at the originally meeting spot, understood?" Integra said, and waited until she heard a quiet affirmative, before gently adding, "We're going to figure out what happened."

She hung up without waiting for a reply and lit a new cigar, sucking in the smoke deeply before exhaling, trying to sort her frayed nerves.

What the hell was going on?

—

Deafness, Pip found, was much like being trapped in a soundless bubble. He could see everything happening around him, from the stirring of overhead branches to the slopping mud at his feet, but there was no more rustling of dried leaves or the wet squelching of his boots to follow. No more flickering of a lighter or the clang of beer bottles, the bangs of gunfire or the drunken laughter of his men. It'd have been sad, he would have thought at the most, a little lonely. But he'd never been deep enough to consider how fucking lost he'd feel. 

It was probably why he'd nearly had a heart attack when Alucard suddenly fell on his knees and spat out a spray of blood across the wet grass. Ten alarming minutes later and all Pip had figured out was that the talk with Integra had not had the best start.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked, having no idea how soft or loud he was being, and received a cold glower for his trouble.

 _Well sorry for being worried that you threw up blood,_ Pip thought a little bitterly. Once again, he had no idea what the fuck just happened.

He'd been watching with a sinking heart as Seras tried to explain the predicament. After flinging the phone across the grass within the first few seconds, the girl had been in a timid hunch the entire conversation, both hands clutching the phone like a lifeline as her eerie white eyes blinked uselessly in distress. There didn't seem to be much talking on her end and by the way she winced, Pip could tell some yelling was taking place. 

Eyeing Alucard had given no hints as to what though; the elder vampire's face could've been carved from stone with the amount of reaction he was showing. It was only after Pip, anxiously pondering if he should be planning a way back, worked up the courage to ask Alucard what was happening that he realized the vampire had not been paying one whit of attention. Brief pandemonium reigned afterwards. 

In any other situation, it'd be almost funny that even powerful-beyond-comprehension things like Alucard could be caught zoning out. But since Pip preferred his throat where it was and the guy looked kind of pathetic right now, mute and pale and leaning against a tree for support, he rotated his shoulders and turned around.

"Well, if everything seems okay with the boss, I'm just going to go check out the wreckage," he said, cracking his back as he walked, and almost fell over when an offended Seras smacked him in the arm. 

She fisted her hands by her side, wrinkling her nose adorably and started saying something with great agitation, despite the fact he obviously couldn't hear a word and she was staring somewhere off toward his left shoulder. Ah well, at least she looked cute while doing it.

Pip quieted her easily enough by slipping his hand through hers. He couldn't resist a slight chuckle when she jumped, her entire face glowing bright red against the night. 

"C'mon, mignonette," he said, cutting off her sputtering, "It'll be easier to move if you're holding onto one of us." He could tell by the jumbling movement of her lips that she was stammering, but her fingers curled agreeably around his palm. It didn't register in his mind how freezing and pale her hand was, only that it was soft and slim and fitted perfectly in his. 

They walked slowly, Pip trying to be mindful of all the rocks and roots sticking out of the ground that could trip her, though Seras toed and danced around obstacles with enough grace that he almost didn't have to. When they reached the tree, Alucard was regarding them with a mixture of amusement and disgust. 

He gestured amicably enough though, letting a slightly regretful Pip deposit Seras's hand in his. She must've asked if he was okay as soon as they touched, because Alucard's eyes rolled exasperatedly. He curled his long fingers around her palm in reassurance, coaxing a relieved smile out of the draculina.

A faint pang of jealousy pulsed through Pip and he swiftly turned away. He didn't know why the sight of Seras and Alucard together bothered him so much sometimes. It wasn't as if Alucard had ever shown the remotest interest in Seras before, being so blatantly infatuated with a certain Hellsing director. Going by what little Pip knew about their bond, Seras was pretty much his kid. All that concern and affection for him was the same as any other child would have for her parent. 

_Right?_ Pip mopped his drawn face with his hand, wanting to wipe away his randomly pathetic feelings as well. He was already deaf and potentially stranded in a swamp, not to mention fucking deaf, and getting pissed over a father-daughter relationship would just be hitting new lows.

_Plus, you have to explain to Silford why his flamethrower looks like a charred suitcase now._

Pip cringed at the thought. He'd been walking through the wreckage of the house, stepping over burnt furniture and kicking aside splintered shafts when he finally located the weapon. It was surrounded by a sea of glass shards, and part of the bottom seemed to have actually liquefied. Pip toed it tenderly with his foot, but there didn't seem to be a single salvageable part left. 

"Mon Dieu," he muttered to himself, just because he wanted to feel the words in his mouth, even if he couldn't hear them. He'd probably be buying at least a week's worth of drinks for Silford when he found out, and likely the whole damn squad too, since the guy could be a sadistic bastard like that. 

He kicked the tank lightly in frustration and it oozed forward a few centimeters like a large half-incinerated slug. Pip wrinkled his nose in disgust and was about to turn away when a bright glint caught the corner of his eye. Curious, he crouched down and without giving it much thought, pried the object from the debris and mud it'd been embedded in.

It was a jeweled pin of a rooster, strutting and proud, colored by a delicately arranged group of emeralds, rubies and dark acrylic gems. 

Pip's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline at how extravagantly expensive it looked. The vampires they'd fought had worn tattered clothes and the whole place had reeked of decay and mildew. The pin didn't seem likely to belong to any of them. 

Pip was just beginning to mull over the thought more deeply, when a sudden hand on his shoulder nearly made him drop the pin. 

"Shit—!" 

He spun around fast enough his neck cracked—hand already reaching for his gun, and ended up staring right into Alucard's annoyed face. 

"Oh, it's just you, Mr. Alucard," Pip lowered his gun in relief, trying to steady his pounding heart; he was going to have to get use to deafness really soon if he didn't want to have a heart attack every five minutes.

Alucard arched an elegant eyebrow at him, as if to say 'just me?' but pointed out toward the forest. Pip nodded, standing, "Time to go then?" 

Alucard answered by shifting slightly, revealing an anxious Seras that was holding onto his hand. Roughly and without warning, he raised their intertwined hands in front of his face, dragging a startled Seras up next to him with one pull.

Pip stared at the pale appendages being waved before his nose. "…Yes, you are really gripping tight to each other…" he said eventually, clueless as to what the vampire wanted. 

If the word monotone could have a face, Alucard was wearing it. From next to him, Seras stared resolutely at her feet, her face beneath the fringe of blonde bangs was fiery red. 

Pip's brow began rising again; the stray thought that Alucard was trying to mock him somehow tugged at him for a brief moment. He barely managed to get irked though, before Alucard promptly lost his patience. 

Pip flinched slightly when the vampire's large, freezing hand clamped down on his wrist. It jerked him forward before he could protest and nonchalantly dropped his hand into Seras's empty one. Pip's remaining eye nearly popped out of its socket and Seras looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her.

A stunned silence reigned supreme.

Utterly unruffled, Alucard calmly extracted his hand from Seras's vice grip and produced his writing stick from essentially nowhere.

 _Help her walk. We're leaving._ His elegant, slanted script read in the dirt and ashes.

Pip blinked at the message and then stared at Seras, who seemed to feel his gaze and ducked her head lower. Her mouth fluttered soundlessly again and he could imagine the nervous apologies pouring forth right now. A warm, embarrassingly tender feeling coursed through him. 

"Let's go then, mignonette," he said, wrapping his hand around hers, making her jump. She lifted her head slightly, and though her eyes were milky and blank, a shy little smile curled around her lips as she nodded.

Alucard, astoundingly indifferent to the affectionate display, turned heel and began heading back into the woods. Pip carefully followed with Seras in tow, a light smile forming when her fingers squeezed his palm. Absentmindedly, he stuffed the pin into his back pocket and didn't give it another thought.


	6. Chapter 6

"What time is it now, Walter?"

Walter repressed a deep sigh and obligingly checked his wristwatch. 

"About quarter to six, my lady," he reported for the fifth time within thirty minutes. 

Integra nodded curtly, eyes fixed on a point in the scarlet sky. Her craned head would've almost resembled an excited child waiting for Santa to come, if not for the tight, worried line of her lips.

"What do you think happened?" she asked after a brief pause, hands stiff at her side.

"It is hard to say, Ma'am," Walter admitted, "We can only assume that the enemy was a far greater concern than any of us anticipated."

"I assure you, I'll be having words with the Council and Her Majesty on _that_ ," Integra said icily, "Look at this shit pile their rubbish idea has landed us in. I swear, Walter, if what I'm thinking has actually happened then I don't even…"

She trailed off with a murderous glare at the pinking clumps of clouds overhead, as if she were imagining old, decrepit faces in their place. Walter was silent. He had no doubt Integra would be carrying out some confrontations soon, even though he knew a miniscule part of her was still clinging to the hope that this was some elaborate scheme to secure a way back after missing the original plane. Walter was not so optimistic. 

The conversation on the phone was too chaotic and frenzied, and both Pip and Seras seemed to have no idea what was occurring around them at two separate times. And then Alucard…from what he'd gathered after decades with the ancient creature, the punishment from the seal for disobedience was excruciating at the very least. He'd only seen Alucard writhe through the pain once, and that was when Arthur had ordered him to chop apart his own coffin. What happened over the phone was far more serious than any sort of ruse.

"They're here," Integra's cool voice suddenly said, dispersing Walter's thoughts. She was watching intently as a small black dot in the horizon began enclosing on them, swelling to full size in a matter of minutes. 

Integra's posture stiffened even more as the jet landed smoothly on the concrete roof, whipping her blonde hair in wild directions with its wind turbines. She looked like she was holding herself from sprinting up to the aircraft and Walter half-thought about pulling her back slightly, when the door unlatched. 

Pip and Seras stumbled out first, gripping onto each others hands like frightened children. The latter was caked in dried mud and scraps of dead leaves smeared down her entire front, while the top of the former's body was drenched maroon brown with blood. Alucard slinked out last, looking not as worse for wear as the other two, though more tired and irritated; large vibrant blood stains had bloomed over his chest and darkened parts of his red cravat.

Walter and Integra stared at the bedraggled appearances. 

"Oh, no," he thought he heard his mistress mutter, but she was already walking briskly over to meet them.

He saw Alucard's and Pip's eyes flicker soundlessly toward her as she approached, but Seras's gaze remained staring aimlessly at the ground. Walter noted with alarm that her eyes were filmy and gray, the original baby blue of her irises now a sickly white. 

Integra, who looked like her hope had just been shattered into thousands of pieces, could only stand there for a moment.

"Report," she finally croaked, gesturing in agitation when all she received was a confused blink from Pip and an exhausted look from Alucard, "I want a detailed, _play-by-play_ of what the _bloody hell_ happened." Seras jumped visibly at the angry demand, as if she hadn't even known Integra was standing there, and began stammering through another explanation that seemed even less coherent than the last one.

Walter shuffled away quickly before he could watch the disarray escalate further. The pilot was hopping down the stairs with his bag and sent a cheery smile at Walter when he saw him.

"'Morning, Mr. Dornez," he called out brightly, as if they'd bumped into each other at the supermarket, "Looks like the weather's shaping up nicely, doesn't it?"

Walter weakly returned the smile at him, nodding. He was one of their recent recruits, still sprightly and energetic, with a youthful smattering of freckles and dirty blonde hair.

"It seems to be so, Captain Blade," he said amicably.

The pilot grinned at him and deeply inhaled the crisp dawn air. His roaming eyes softened in sympathy when they fell upon Integra and his former passengers.

"Aw, tell the Director not to go so harshly at 'em, will ya, Mr. Dornez?" he said, "They were a mess when I landed there—didn't talk the whole ride back. Well, the girl and Cap'em Bernadotte said a few things, but the big guy was completely silent. Must've been a tiring trip, huh?"

Walter gave another more tight-lipped smile at the man; it continued to astonish him how so many of the younger recruits had such trouble understanding exactly what organization they worked for, or even what two of the 'passengers' on his plane had really been. 

"Yes, well, it has been a full night," he replied, and before the pilot could draw him into a long conversation, quickly added, "You are dismissed for the rest of the day. Write up your standard report and then you may go home."

Blade nodded cheerfully, "Not a problem, sir. It's such a brilliant day, I think I'll take my little Frannie out for some kite-flying. Her mum's recently bought her this butterfly one, you see, a bit expensive, but Frannie's delighted—"

"How lovely that is, sir," Walter interjected gracefully, turning even as he spoke, "I hope you enjoy flying her kite with her. Please pardon me."

He strolled away before the pilot could say more and returned to Integra's side, where the interrogation did not seem to be going remarkably well.

"Wait, so it was the _castle_ that caused all this?" she was reiterating impatiently, as Walter folded his hands behind his back.

"Not exactly…" Seras murmured, pulling at her uniform with her free hand, "Um…the castle sealed Master's powers for a while, and the target was using the tower…"

"So it was the tower that did this."

"U-um, no, she used this white light and we all ended up…"

"I thought you said the tower was used."

"Yes, but that was the main seal of Master's powers…right?"

Integra stared at her subordinates, as if she didn't know whether to gape or scream. Seras continued to flounder, backtracking and mixing up details. Walter shared a sympathetic cringe with Pip for her. 

It was on Seras's frazzled, third rendition of what occurred that Alucard finally stepped up and clamped a hand over her mouth, silencing her instantly. Every pair of eyes shot to the tall vampire, as Seras's shoulders drooped in barely concealed relief. Integra raised an extremely vexed and expectant brow at her pet.

Keeping his hand nearly wrapped around his fledgling's entire face, Alucard mimed a scribbling pencil with far more seriousness than the action should've warranted. 

Integra gave him a look, but perhaps was still feeling slightly guilty for ripping into the seal with him earlier, because she eventually gave a curt nod. 

"Let's go then," she said, already turning toward the door. Alucard released Seras and allowed Pip to lead his meek childe after her, leaving him and Walter to bring up the rear. 

"You do realize she was only a Category C right?" Walter teased his old friend, trying to lighten the weight of mounting apprehension in the atmosphere.

A homicidal glare was his only reply.

—-

Alucard finished his page long explanation with a clatter of the ink pen against Integra's desk, not even caring when she glared at him for rudeness. It was half past six in the morning now and he didn't quite care about anything at the moment, save for crawling into his coffin and sleeping for the next five hundred years.

But no, he had to stand there as his master read through what happened (give or take a few edited events on how he let his guard down), with Walter scanning the page from over her shoulder. Behind him, Seras and Pip peeked around his arms like anxious children. His fledgling in particular, was hovering closer and closer to his elbow, likely feeling guilty or some similar nonsense for her unhelpful babbling earlier. 

Alucard resisted a tremendous yawn.

After a full minute, Integra let the paper fall, expression grim and pinched. 

"You can't speak at all?" she asked.

He shook his head. Alucard had made multiple attempts toward speech while waiting for Seras and Pip to wake, each resulting in failure. He'd been seriously doubting his vocal chords were even physically there anymore, when the oh-so-lovely effects of the Hellsing seal put an end to that theory.

His master sighed, sending cursory glances toward Pip and Seras as well. The cerulean of her eyes was piercingly bright beneath her glasses. It was that same fiery mix of contemplation, wrath and calculation Alucard had come to associate with all of the Hellsing leaders over the years (though none matched her in brilliance). 

"Walter, please contact Doctor Trevilian. I'm afraid he'll have to make an early morning house call," she requested, though her eyes were still trained on the three of them, "We need an assessment on the extent of physical damage the spell caused." 

Walter bowed quietly in confirmation and exited, though not before sending them a half-worried, half-baffled look, which would've annoyed Alucard if he hadn't felt more like face-planting into the lining of his coffin.

"As for the three of you," his master continued coolly, if not in repulse as her eyes trailed over their clothes, "Go get cleaned up and eat something. Wait in the sitting room when you're done." 

Alucard's shoulders twitched at the prospect of doing anything other than sleep. The effects of the spell, thrashing from the seal, and general irritation that was the rising sun was taking a bit of a toll on him and he was quickly becoming sick of everything and everyone. He already completed the mission and gave the report anyway, what the hell else did she want from him?

But Integra's gaze was expectant and Alucard had barely opened his mouth, before he got to realize all over again that he couldn't even complain. Not unless he wanted to spend five minutes scratching it down. And she probably wouldn't even let him use her paper.

In fact, he swore there was a hint of smugness in those blue eyes. 

"You're dismissed, Alucard," Integra said, sliding his report into a folder, and added at the last second before he could sullenly slide through the floor, "Take Seras and Captain Bernadotte with you." 

_God dammit._

Alucard yanked his half-submerged shoes back onto flat surface, sending a mild glare at Integra which the woman didn't even blink at. He'd been expecting the impromptu babysitting to end once they'd returned, but it looked like nothing was going to go his way today.

"…Master?" Seras questioned, fidgeting uncontrollably. Pip continued staring in puzzlement at the whole scene, completely befuddled. 

Alucard mentally sighed at the display of utter helplessness and turned toward the door. He grabbed Seras as he past her, earning another surprised yelp and a bemused Pip in tow. 

—

Alucard broke apart their chain of hands as soon as they got to the head of the stairs. Unfortunately, he then had to degrade himself further by engaging in a game of charades with Pip over what Integra's orders had been. After losing his temper twice with the man, the French captain hurried off toward the barracks; Alucard wasn't entirely certain he'd understood the message, but was far beyond giving a damn.

Rubbing his eyes sleepily with one folded hand, he tugged an oddly quiet Seras down into the kitchen. The servants and maids avoided them like the plague, though it took a couple of growls and bared teeth to stop their staring. He would never understand the eternal fascination humans had for things that could eat them.

At least the soldiers they met loitering in the kitchen had the good sense to salute and retreat as soon as they entered (though he snarled at them anyway because their faces were displeasing him). 

_Sit down,_ he pulsed through the bond to his fledgling as they walked over to the table, but was unsure of how much of the thought actually made it through. 

By the way Seras jolted when Alucard dropped her hand onto the back of a chair, probably none of it.

"Oh, sorry, Master," she murmured, pulling out the chair with a loud screech against the tiled floor and slumping into it. Her skin was bone pale and green-tinged beneath the fluorescent lights and the nausea twisting her face from the coming morning made her look listless and wilted. 

Alucard scowled and strolled to the sleek fridge sitting in a far corner of the room. Without bothering to open it, he slipped his hand through the door, rummaging for a moment, before producing two blood bags. 

Seras's head snapped up when he tossed one gently onto the table, letting it slide into her hands. An instance of raw, primal hunger flashed across her features as she realized what it was, but vanished before Alucard had the chance to properly appreciate it.

"No, thank you, Master," she sighed, pushing the bag away with her fingertips, "I'm not hungry."

_Well, that was bullshit._ Alucard glared threateningly at the petite draculina, which she couldn't see, and questioned when his fledgling started lying to his face, which he couldn't ask.

Frustrated and irritable, he stormed over to the table's edge and shoved the blood bag back toward her, making the red liquid slosh around inside. Seras gulped pathetically when it touched the back of her hand, but slid it gently away again. 

Alucard stared, eyes narrowing into red slits. The little fool was really going to do this dance right now? 

"I'm sorry, Master," Seras said firmly, sensing his anger in the air, "I can't drink. I don't want to lose who I am."

_Why not?_ he wanted to demand, _You're blind and feeble and about to collapse. What's there left to lose?_

Alucard pushed the bag toward her again. She pushed it back. They childishly jockeyed the blood across the table at each other for several minutes, before Alucard got fed up. 

Seras jumped violently when he slammed his fist down on the table and splintered the wood, but jutted out her chin in sheer stubbornness anyway. Her shoulders were slightly quivering, but it was largely from exhaustion and hunger than fear.

_What an agitating childe._ Alucard ran a hand through his hair and sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. Consequently, he completely missed the guilt-ridden frown that momentarily marred Seras's face, too busy contemplating the merits of simply cramming blood down her throat. How she hadn't starved to death months ago, he had no idea. 

They had drifted into a tense silence for several minutes, before Seras's soft voice broke through it.

"Could…Could I have it heated, Master?" 

Alucard immediately stared at her through the crack of his fingers.

"I-I'm not going to drink all of it," Seras quickly stammered in defense, "B-but I can get a little down if it's heated…"

He was heading toward the microwave with the bag before she finished the sentence, a grin beginning to worm onto his face. Alucard ripped open his own pack with the edge of his teeth, slurping it down in large cold gulps as he poured his fledgling's into a bowl. It was slightly reminiscent of heating a child's milk before bed, but as long as she drank, he would try not to fixate. Blood tasted better warm anyway.

He pried open the microwave door and slid the bowl in, feeling likely more complacent than he should have that he remembered what buttons Walter had told him to press. When the machine 'dinged,' he brought the bowl out and placed it in front of Seras, throwing in a spoon as a last-second thought.

Seras smiled weakly, "Thanks, Master." 

She prodded the blood with her spoon, swirling it around, perhaps steeling herself, perhaps waiting for him to lose patience and leave. Alucard scoffed and crossed his arms, leaning against the edge of the table. Like he was going anywhere.

Seras's shoulders drooped slightly as she realized his resolve. With great, unnecessary hesitation, she scooped up a dripping spoonful and shakily brought it to her lips. 

Her ravenous instincts snapped awake as soon as it hit her mouth. Within a blink, she was chugging down the rest of the blood, the spoon having been flung somewhere across the room. Alucard grinned widely.

Not even seconds later, the bowl was dry as a bone. Seras was still licking the sides clean, practically chewing on the rim when she finally snapped out of it. 

"Oh!" she squealed, dropping the bowl as if it were a piece of hot coal, letting it clack noisily against the table. A look of unadulterated horror crossed over her face—her white eyes widening to the size of dinner plates. 

Alucard laughed silently and clapped, causing her to wheel at him.

"Master!" she cried in frustration, bunching her fists, like it was his fault she'd lost control. Alucard just smiled wryly, pleased. He'd had neither the energy nor the capability to nag at her like usual.

The heat of her anger evaporated surprisingly fast. One moment she was seething and horrified with herself and the next moment she was sighing in defeat and propping her chin on her palm. 

"Happy now?" she asked, with less bitterness than he'd expected. Still smiling gleefully, he reached for Seras's hand; the connection felt a great deal stronger now that they'd both been sated. 

_Very._ Seras huffed, "Well I'm glad somebody is." But a small smile pulled at her lips.

Alucard was proudly studying the carved up bowl like it was his childe's first kill. 

_You can't tell me you don't feel better._

A small blush bloomed across her cheeks. "I do," she admitted, before quickly adding, "But I'm not going to start drinking it all the time."

_Really? You're going to continue starving yourself, despite knowing how it strengthens you?_

"It's the only way I can remain who I am."

Alucard pinched the bridge of his nose, his good cheer dissipating within a matter of seconds. Seras, who remained oblivious, stared curiously at their intertwined hands.

"Master, why is it I can only hear you when we're touching?" she questioned, changing the subject before another argument arose. Alucard also turned toward their hands, eyebrows raising slightly.

_We are closest through touch,_ he explained simply, though he had no idea why she couldn't hear him the normal way anymore either. Part of him figured he should be more concerned about it. 

"It seems a bit inconvenient though," she mumbled at his boots, "I'd much rather just hear your voice, Master."

He would've chuckled then if he could've. 

_You can hear it in your head, can't you?_

Seras shook her head rapidly. "It's not the same," she said, and then very lowly, "Is this the only way we're going to be able to talk from now on?" 

She moved her free hand up to a blind, pupil-less eye as she spoke, enveloping it in her palm. A sad frown was on her face as she blinked sightlessly into the darkness. 

"Am I going to be blind forever?"

Alucard nearly resisted the urge to roll his own eyes, but then realized he had no reason to and did it anyway. He swore the longer she spent in undead life, the more human she became.

_Police girl, how long do you think you're going to live?_

Seras let her hand fall with a 'plop' and turned the dismal look at him.

"I don't know, maybe—"

_Forever. That's how long. Now, in the fathomless stretch of days and years and centuries to come, exactly how long do you expect this mere nuisance of a spell to last, hm? Do you think you'll still be blind on doomsday perhaps? Running into mangled telephone poles and stumbling over charred corpses?_

A giggle slipped from Seras, despite the macabre description.

"I suppose you're right, Master," she agreed, a small smile formed along her mouth.

Alucard's face softened a minuscule amount and he straightened.

_I'm always right. Now run along and get cleaned up. Integra wants us in the sitting room._

He dropped her hand promptly, severing the connection and quickly phased through the wall. The last thing he heard was a cry of frustration as she realized she would have to grope her own way down to the basement. 

Alucard grinned. It wouldn't do to be too sentimental after all.

—

After a harrowing journey down to her room and an equally terrifying one back upstairs and through the hallway, Seras finally stumbled into the main sitting room, cursing her sire to the lowest hell. One moment he was comforting her and giving twisted pep talks and the next he was deserting her in the kitchen with nothing but the wall to guide her!

_Stupid master…_ She grumbled in her head, grateful that her mind was solely hers for the moment, and continued patting the wall. 

To her relief, as she'd continued through the mansion, Seras had begun to notice the wall's little bumps and nicks, signifying the ending or beginning of each section of the house. The smell, amazingly, combined with her memory of everything were also an immense help, and she continued to inch her way in—the familiar scent of firewood and English tea reassuring her that it was the correct room.

And at least there didn't seem to be anyone here yet…

"Mignonette?" 

Seras nearly hit the ceiling, somehow managing to trip over her own feet in the process. If it weren't for the quick hands that grabbed her shoulders, she would've ended in a face plant on the floor. 

"Whoa, easy, Seras," came Pip's surprised voice, steadying her before pulling away, "It's just me."

Seras gasped, trying to calm a pounding heart that shouldn't even be beating. 

"Good God, Captain, you gave me a fright!"

Likely guessing what she said, Pip sheepishly replied, "Je suis desolee, ma cherie. I didn't know you were there until I turned around."

Right. Of course. Seras sighed and waved away his apology.

Unfortunately, that left her in an awkward position, since she'd jumped somewhere far off from the wall after being startled. Tracing her way back to it in front of him did not sound terribly enticing. 

"You need help to the couch, mignonette?" Pip suddenly asked, making her face flare up instantly at how knowing and amused he sounded.

But it was either accept his help or make a fool of herself once more. Seras sighed again and nodded, offering her palm.

His large hand linked with hers accommodatingly. It was calloused and warm, like any man's hand, and he had long, handsome fingers. His grip was strong, but not enough to be painful, and very steady… 

Seras felt every drop of blood she'd ingested earlier swell into her face. Desperately, she tried to redirect her thoughts, all the while a furious litany of prayer played through her head that he wasn't looking at her. 

_What the bloody hell is with you, Seras? Stop blushing like you're still in secondary! Think about something else! Like…Walter doing ballet, or Master with reindeer antlers. Or Sir Integra in a prom dress._

The last image nearly made her choke. 

_O-Oh my God, that is just…well I suppose Master would like that._

She had to forcefully will the image away as it was sending physical shivers down her spine, not even noticing that they had stopped and Pip was staring at her. 

"Uh…mignonette…?" 

_I bet she would look lovely in a dress if she smiled. I can't even imagine her smiling—_

"Seras!"

The young vampiress jumped and turned to her side, blinking uselessly again.

"Um, yes sir?"

Pip released Seras's hand, taking away the warmth with him.

"We're here. Come on and sit."

For a moment, she had no idea what he was talking about. Then she heard Pip plop down, squeaking leather and the unmistakable sound of army boots on a cherry wood coffee table.

Whatever blush she'd managed to drive away returned with a vengeance.

"O-Oh, right, of course…" she sat down stiffly, the leather beneath her making an obscene sound that deepened the shade of scarlet engulfing her face, "I-I was just thinking of…um…nothing really…I mean I was thinking of something, but it was…"

_Shutupshutupshutup_

But Seras couldn't. She continued to blabber incoherently for several more seconds, before with great difficulty, she managed to button her mouth. It left a mortifying silence to ensue. 

Seras fidgeted in her seat, suddenly paranoid about how ridiculous the gray shirt she'd haphazardly thrown on looked (it had a huge Tudor rose at the center) and felt for the tag several times to make sure she wasn't wearing it inside out. She was in the middle of wishing for a meteor to strike her when Pip suddenly muttered.

"Hey, they finished construction on the Walkie-Talkie—one of six new skyscrapers in London's financial area this year," he tutted in mild disapproval, "It really is bigger than better with Brits."

Seras turned an incredulous stare in Pip's general direction. There was no response for several seconds, before she suddenly heard the crinkling sound of a turning page. The scent of ink and worn paper drifted up her nose.

"Merde, there's like five pages just for the market, but half of one for entertainment?"

The Times. He was reading the Times. She had just made a mess of herself and he was reading the bloody Times. 

Because he was bloody deaf. Right.

Seras collapsed against the couch with a groan. Pip, whose eyes were glued to a photo of the Duchess, didn't notice at all. Without any humiliation-induced paranoia to fuel her, a wave of exhaustion flooded over Seras. Despite the oddly shaded feeling of the room, it had to be around seven or eight by now and though the blood she'd drank had driven the nausea away, the dawn was swiftly sending her towards sleep.

She'd been floating in between dozing and wakefulness with Pip reading beside her, when a cool tension suddenly entered the atmosphere. Reluctant to expend the effort, Seras lifted her head sluggishly, despite seeing nothing but an expanse of blackness before her. 

The nearly silent 'thunk' of heavy boots, along with Pip's startled flinch, had announced her master.

"Hey, Mr. Alucard," Pip eventually greeted, with an incredible casualness that most would gawk at. He smoothed down the paper he'd accidentally crumpled and said nothing more. There was no point after all.

Her master obviously didn't reply and she felt the shadowy edge of his coat brush her shins as he stopped in front of her. Seras sent a tired, slightly sloppy smile in what she hoped was his way.

"Hi, Master."

His cold hand settled against her shoulder.

_…your hair's a mess…_

"You're one to talk." She replied simply, too far gone to really get upset over the comment, or even the earlier abandonment. 

As evidence of his own lethargy, Alucard didn't push it and let his hand drop. He shuffled over to a nearby armchair, half-collapsed into it and didn't move again. Pip made idle comments to himself about the sports section, which they both ignored.

Seras massaged her fingers across her temple, actually feeling the rays of the sun prickling across her consciousness like sedation needles. She really hoped this Doctor Trevilian or whoever Sir Integra had called would arrive soon, because she didn't feel like she was going to last much longer. …Really, it wouldn't hurt to rest her eyes for a while, would it? 

_Just for a few minutes…_ She thought drowsily, laying her head down against the back of the couch. It was nowhere near the velvety silkiness of her coffin, but leather had never felt so soft and comfortable in the past. Before she knew it, the sweet cloud of sleep had descended gently upon her.

On the other side of the couch, Pip turned another page. 

—-

By the time Doctor Trevilian had hurried in and Integra had walked with him to the sitting room, she was met with a disheveled, but predictable sight. 

Alucard was slumped limply to his left, dark wild hair obscuring his closed eyes, while Seras had curled up across part of the couch, her head hanging slightly over the armrest. On the right end, Pip was obliviously engrossed in a copy of the Times, even though Seras's feet were practically in his lap. 

Doctor Trevilian made a small noise of half apology and half amusement. 

"I'm sorry, Sir Integra. I tried to get here as quickly as I could."

Integra sighed and shook her head.

"Don't be, Doctor. I was hoping they'd be able to hold out for a few more hours, but it's not really a shock they couldn't." She had Walter draw the curtains in the room for a reason after all.

"For the moment, could you please examine Captain Bernadotte?" she continued, gesturing at her butler, who had followed behind them. Walter bowed and walked in, weaving expertly past Alucard's spindly legs. 

The way he leaned down wasn't particularly sneaky and the hand that touched Pip's shoulder was gentle, but the mercenary almost flew out of his skin anyway. 

Integra watched her doctor frown as Walter tried to calm the other man. Pip was giving the elderly servant a bewildered look, like he had just materialized from thin air, before suddenly swiveling his head back and forth between Seras and Alucard.

"When did they crash?" he was asking loudly, utterly surprised, as Walter pulled him to his feet.

"You said this happened only a few hours ago, Sir Integra?" Trevilian questioned.

She nodded.

Her companion made a bemused sound, though the frown did not disappear.

"Alright, I'll have a look."

She didn't like the ominous note to his voice, but couldn't reply, as Walter and Pip had walked up to them. Doctor Trevilian smiled faintly at the young captain, who was blinking at him in confusion, and gave him a friendly clap on the shoulder. 

Integra watched calmly as they ushered Pip out, steering him toward an empty guest room for privacy. She chewed on the end of a cigar, waiting until they'd disappeared down the hall, before walking over to her vampires. 

"You're both going to ruin your backs on those," she muttered idly, hands in her pockets. Slack features and silence were her only replies. Not even the rhythmic breaths of slumber were present. 

Integra sighed, feeling some minor guilt about forcing them up during the day right after the mission, and walked over to the cabinet for some old afghan blankets to assuage it. Even though she knew it was largely pointless for such cold-blooded creatures. 

_Bloody vampires,_ She thought grumpily, draping a white and blue striped one over Seras. The draculina shifted slightly, making a soft sleepy noise, and Integra froze, ready to do a marathon sprint out the door at the first sign of rising eyelids. But the girl eventually settled and automatically snuggled into the covering now over her. 

Integra watched for several more cautious seconds before turning away.

Wrapping up Alucard was far less nerve-wracking. Although not in the true vampiric sleep achieved only within his coffin, he was still pretty much dead to the world once out. Integra tucked the blanket carefully over his shoulders, regarding his sleeping face with the same curiosity she's had for ten years now. 

In slumber, his face was smooth and loose, unguarded and unmarred by harsh lines. Without the suffocating tinge of murder in his eyes, he looked almost normal, even human, or as close to one as Alucard could get. 

Integra parted the hair hiding his face and tucked it behind his ear. She had always thought he was most bearable like this, quiet and calm, without that deep, insane voice echoing through her halls and dreams. Though now that it was gone, part of her wondered if she was going to miss it, if she was ever going to hear it again.

_Of course you will,_ she told herself fiercely, _Of course you will._

It was nothing but a spell and all spells could be broken. Feeling strangely annoyed that the thought had even strayed into her head, Integra fixed his askew cravat, smoothed the blanket and was about to stand when she saw it. 

A tiny design-like image curling around the left side of Alucard's collarbone, around the base of his neck. Integra squinted, leaning in slightly and brushing aside the hair that had been previously concealing it.

"What on Earth…?" It was the profile of a rooster, elegantly composed from red and green strokes, with its proud head in the air. 

Integra stared at her sleeping vampire. "Is that a _tattoo_?"

She couldn't even remember the last time Alucard left the mansion for anything other than a mission, when the hell did he go get a tattoo? 

Integra whirled around at Seras—her first thought being that he must've dragged his fledgling out with him at some point—only to suddenly spot the same marking on her as well. Integra's eyes widened. 

_What?_

She walked briskly over to the couch, adjusting her glasses to ascertain she was seeing correctly. It was even smaller than Alucard's, approximately the size of Integra's pinky nail, and was situated on the lower corner of Seras's right eyelid, nearing the end of her eyelashes. Another rooster. Almost invisible beneath the fringe of her bangs. 

For a moment, Integra just stood there next to the coffee table, stunned. 

Her mind was having trouble deciding what to stress over first. Whether Alucard had somehow found a loophole around her order to stay on grounds or that they had wasted it on of all things, matching rooster tattoos. And then there was the part of her wondering if they actually were tattoos and another part that just kept wondering why a _rooster_?

She was on the edge of rousing Seras and shoving Alucard awake for an explanation when Walter suddenly rushed back to the doorway.

"Sir Integra," he called, making her stiffen for a moment, before taking it in stride.

"Walter?" she turned around, about to ask him about the rooster images on her vampires when she saw his strange expression.

"What is it?"

"Sir Islands just called. He's initiating a Council meeting for the review of the mission. It's scheduled for ten this morning."

Integra's lip curled. Wartimes aside, the dreaded meetings with the Round Table were more duty than actual need and held only once per month. Undoubtedly, the conference was because of the potential 'weight' of the mission.

"Fine," she said, rolling her eyes mentally, and waved her hand, "Is that all?"

Walter bowed. "Additionally, an interesting item has appeared during the Captain's examination that Doctor Trevilian wishes to discuss with you." 

Her eyes widened. "Of course," she said, walking over with much more urgency than before. She threw one last glance over her shoulder at her unconscious pets, before heading with her butler down the hall.

"By the way, Walter, could you please move them back to the basement? I've something to say to them come evening."


	7. Chapter 7

"WHAT!" The thin figure swiped a lamp off his desk, it's chain quivering in his grip, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU COULDN'T FIND IT?"

He roared, chucking the lamp at the threshold where the shorter man cowered. It smashed into pieces against the doorframe, making his stubby arms fly up to shield his head. 

"I-I'm sorry, Monsieur," he whimpered, sweat flooding his beefy face, "B-but we searched the entire area and it wasn't there—"

"Then look harder!" the tall man snarled, banging his fist against shiny birch wood, "You will find it, even if you have to rummage through the entrails of the squirrels."

The subordinate flinched backwards. His hands were growing so slick with sweat damp spots were appearing over his gloves and fat rivulets oozed down his round chin.

"M-Monsieur," he began, then regretted his voice immediately, when frigid green eyes fixed upon him, "W-With the utmost, _u-utmost,_ respect, why is this so important?"

The look he received nearly made him keel over. 

"What did you say?" a suddenly hushed voice hissed, a sound like serpents in the grass. He shook his head rapidly, mouth caving in on itself, but a bony hand waved his squealing apologies away.

"Non, non, petit commandant, tell me what you mean. Now."

The man swallowed convulsively, struggling past crippling fear for words.

"I-I m-mean the English h-have already d-destroyed La Maison and s-she is dead…W-Why should we worry about a tiny pin—"

A sharp laugh cut him off—black and cold—the rest of his words died in his throat.

"Why should we worry?" the thin man repeated, shaking his head derisively, "You truly don't know what this is, do you?" A long, skeletal hand tapped the edge of a jeweled rooster's crown, pinned primly upon the lapel of his suit.

"Sometimes, I forget how feeble-minded you are, petit commandant," he mused flippantly, "Just think of what has happened between her and us. All the money, the resources, the energy and flesh. Just to feed her to a bigger dog? Non, she does not die so easily. Not while that pin is out there."

His subordinate was rapidly paling, a greenish tinge along his face.

"B-but we found her head. They killed her…"

"They did not," he replied simply, brushing a finger down the rooster's studded surface, "She shall exist as long as it does. It is the only remaining connection between us and her. Tu me comprends? That tiny pin is the end of everything."

The realization sunk in with a nauseating look of fear and a thick, oily handkerchief came out, dabbing futilely at a sagging brow.

"W-what if they found it?"

"It's possible. We are attending one of the Round Table meetings to find out," he replied, letting his arm drop and clasping his hands behind him, "Vampires are known to be attracted to shiny objects after all."

"Vampires…" the man whispered, shuddering and cold at the mere sound, "Like her, you mean? Dieu, how do the English even sleep at night knowing—"

"Non." 

"P-Pardone?"

"She isn't," he smiled coldly at the confused look, "Tell me, petit commandant, what do you know of Japan?"

—-

When Integra walked into the guest room, Doctor Trevilian was already gathering his supplies back into his bag.

"Sir Integra," he greeted respectfully, "I sent him back to the barracks. Boy looked tired, I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not, Doctor," she replied amicably, coming to stand across from the man, before going straight to the point, "What did you find?"

"Aside from a bit of earwax, essentially nothing," Trevilian shook his head in bafflement, "His ears were entirely undamaged, but it's undeniable that he is now profoundly deaf."

Integra nodded, elegant eyebrows furrowing grimly, "What do you propose then?"

"I took the liberty of placing an order for a hearing aid. Normally, I would prefer these sort of things to be custom built, but given these…extraordinary circumstances I…"

"It's not a concern," Integra dismissed, "This is only temporary. Have them direct all expenses to the Hellsing Organization."

The doctor smiled lightly. "Of course, Sir Integra. Aside from the hearing aid, I also advise looking a bit into sign language and lip-reading. They help along communication by a great deal."

Integra nodded, already having several names in mind; some of the older Hellsing soldiers had been required to learn lip-reading while serving in the military.

"I suppose we can assume these results are not unique," she commented blandly.

Trevilian shifted, a slightly uncomfortable look flashed through his eyes.

"I am…not an expert on vampires, but I suppose if the physiological functions remain relatively the same, then my guess is yes."

It's just a spell, Integra reminded herself, resisting the urge to massage her temples.  
"Thank you, Doctor Trevilian. I have no desire to keep you waiting until evening, so there is no need for you to examine Alucard or Seras. Walter can escort you out as usual."

The man nodded, picking up his bag with faint relief. 

"Not at all, Sir Integra, it's only my duty," he took a step toward the door, before suddenly stopping, "Oh, I can't believe I nearly forgot. There was this strange image along the wall of his left ear canal. I'm not sure if it was a birthmark or if it's relevant but I sketched it down."

Integra's eyebrows arched as the man picked up a piece of paper from the table. They nearly disappeared into her hairline when she saw the picture. 

Trevilian scratched his head, puzzled, "I don't know if I even saw it correctly but it looks a little like a rooster doesn't it?"

Integra wheeled on him. "You said you saw this in his ear canal?"

The doctor blinked at the woman, surprised by the urgency in her tone. "Y-Yes, ma'am, is there something wrong?"

But Integra was no longer paying attention. The sketch looked identical to the marks she saw on Alucard and Seras, throwing her tattoo theory promptly out the window. 

"On the throat for the mute," she muttered, eyes widening, "The eye for the blind and the ear for the deaf." 

She spun toward an unnerved Doctor Trevilian, nearly yelling in his face, "They're seals for the spell!"

"Sir Integra!" Both Integra and Trevilian jumped, whirling around to stare at a frazzled Walter at the doorway. Neither of them had noticed when he'd left the room.

"Sir Integra, I apologize for the interruption, but I just received news that the meeting has been rescheduled."

Integra almost snorted at how incredibly unimportant she found the information. But seeing as Walter looked a bit distraught, she humored him.

"Well, when is it then?"

"Somewhere in the next forty minutes, ma'am."

"WHAT?" Integra shrieked, gaping at Walter like she thought he was joking, "What the bloody hell is so pressing?"

"Lord Anguis will be attending."

"Who's Lord Anguis?" 

"The French official who proposed this mission."

Integra's eyes immediately narrowed into cold slits. "Oh, is he? Well, at least this won't be a complete waste of time then. Now I won't have to hunt them down separately." 

She exited the room at a brisk pace, pausing only to send Trevilian an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Doctor, but I'm afraid I will need Walter for the remaining time. If you would head downstairs, I'm sure one of the maids can see you out." The Hellsing woman went down the hall without another word, Walter at her heels, leaving the bewildered doctor behind.

"Walter, I'm going to need the usual files, along with that folder containing Alucard's report."

"Of course, ma'am." 

"And I also need you to keep an eye for anything related to roosters."

To her butler's credit, he didn't even break stride. "…Roosters, Sir Integra?"

"The spell's seals, Walter. Images of roosters were found on the three of them," she explained shortly, "I want every last piece of information you can gather on it. Particularly items from witchcraft or alchemy. We'll likely have to search through the old journals as well."

"Yes, Sir Integra," Walter replied amiably, unfazed at all by the sudden new discovery, "Shall I still have Alucard and Miss Victoria move back to the basement?"

Integra shook her head. "Forget it. I need to talk to them tonight anyway. Just lock the doors and tell the servants to stay away."

Walter nodded again and they walked the rest of the way to the office in silence. Integra was mentally listing all the negative consequences that had come from this new alliance. She would make them pay dearly for the shit they had caused her organization and nothing was going to be left out.

—-

Due to the efficiency of Walter and a new driver that was eager to showcase his ability to navigate London's streets, they arrived at the The Langham hotel (where the meeting was scheduled for) with almost fifteen minutes to spare. 

"You think the President was coming with all this pomp," Integra mused, scowling at the silken drapery and large, crystalline chandeliers that hung overhead. "Why have I never heard of this official?"

"Apparently, no one really has," Walter replied, following behind her with hands folded neatly behind his back, "All we know is that his family is part of the old French aristocracy, which has had strong influential ties to the government for several centuries now."

Integra smirked sardonically, "Hm, so much for democracy then."

"Indeed, ma'am."

They continued down the dimly lit corridor, every so often passing marble pedestals decorated with unnaturally large chrysanthemums and roses, or some obscure statue that bordered on the lewd. Large windows had their curtains tied back by golden sashes, marking their way with long white rectangles of light and a birds eye view of the bustling streets. 

_Money well spent as always,_ Integra thought sarcastically, as they passed by an obscene brass statue of two angels. She was unspeakably glad Walter knew the way to the conference room, or else they would've likely wandered these gaudy hallways for hours.

As it would have it, he expertly directed them through the labyrinthine maze of flowers and statues, arriving swiftly at a pair of large oak doors. 

An expansive, sleek room greeted them as Walter pulled open the door, with a oblong table of dark mahogany at the center. High-back chairs with velvet cushions were placed in neat rows on both sides, and elaborately arranged dinnerware was in front of each one. A chandelier the size of a small house hung like a monstrous disco ball over the whole affair. 

Integra took two steps into the room, and felt much like she was walking into Hell.

"Sir Integra," a strict, cool voice said. Sir Islands's flat and dour face emerged from behind the blazing reflective light of the chandelier. He nodded in greeting at Walter, before appraising Integra with a faintly exasperated look.

"Really, you didn't think to wear something more…appropriate at least this once?" he asked, eyeing her mannish suit and tie.

Integra raised an eyebrow at him. "I wasn't aware this meeting had changed into a social gathering. I would have gladly declined and saved you the embarrassment of my "inappropriate" manner of dress if that were the case."

Sir Islands scowled, which Integra returned with a stubborn glare. The match only lasted for a few seconds however, before Sir Islands sighed.

"The whole point of this is to make a good impression, Integra," he said, "Your clothes aside, you would do well to not take such a tone with Lord Anguis."

"Oh, am I to grovel on my knees before him for seeing my agents as assassins-for-hire?" she snapped, unable to hide the growing fury in her voice, "I thought you told me you would discuss this with the other members, Sir Islands."

The leader of the Round Table frowned. "I did. Several of them found the whole affair rather reasonable. They are only asking for assistance occasionally, with very simple low-level assignments. Something I'm sure your "agent" will find all too easy." 

Integra's temper began to disintegrate. "Goddamn snakes…"

"I beg your pardon?"

Flashes of Pip jumping beneath Walter's hand came across her mind, Seras and her white, pupil-less eyes. Alucard… 

"I said they're goddamn snakes!" she said, startling Walter and making Sir Islands blink in surprise, "They sent us in there with poor information, resources or ways of communicating, and expect to be able dismiss it as low-level?"

Walter pulled anxiously at her sleeve, but was ignored.

"They've had the same vampire problem for years," Sir Islands snapped, scanning the room for a moment to ensure it was still empty, "I saw the file. They gave you a detailed report on the location and habits of the vampire. There was even a description of what she looked like, which I can imagine was extremely difficult to obtain, what else could you possibly—"

"How about the fact that she was a witch?" Integra snarled, calm effectively lost, "Or that she knew how to make seals?"

Walter was now actively trying to calm her. "Sir Integra, please…" Integra held up a hand to silence him, eyes narrowed upon a shocked Sir Islands.

"I sincerely hope the people of London are versed in supernatural combat, Sir Islands, because as of last night, no one will be coming to save them."

—-

After several minutes of explanation from an anxious Walter, Sir Islands sat back in his chair with an impassive look on his face.

"And your vampire had no way of dealing with her at all?"

Walter cringed and was about to speak again, when Integra interrupted him.

"Seeing as he blew off her head without much effort, I think he dealt with her fine," she stared coldly at Islands from where Walter had ushered her into a seat at the head of the table, "But she should never have been labeled a Category C. The operation was poorly led and those reports were all from crippled or traumatized witnesses."

"It is their country. Both the President of France and Her Majesty insisted on letting them conduct their own investigation," Sir Islands replied, meeting her gaze, "Our hands were just as tied as yours, Sir Integra."

Integra scoffed bitterly. "Of course, Director. As I recall, the Convention was just repulsed by the mere thought of this proposition."

Walter nudged her foot gently in warning beneath the table, but was ignored again. Surprisingly however, Sir Islands simply sighed.

"It cannot be helped," he said, iron jaw loosening in the first sign of weariness, "For now, I suggest you keep these weaknesses to yourself until there's a firm grasp on the situation. Am I to assume you haven't lost any control over your creature?"

"No," Integra replied curtly, though made a mental note to recheck the seals once she returned.

"Good. As for France, you'll have plenty of opportunity to negotiate relations today. We'll be here for quite a while." He gestured explanatorily at the silverware and plates. Integra glared at her wine glass like it was a particularly disgusting rat.

"How long?"

"The whole day."

"It is a request from Her Majesty, Integra," Sir Islands added tranquilly, at the woman's incredulous expression.

"Even so," she snapped, "I don't have time to listen to some French fool prattle all day." In honesty, she'd planned to simply release her anger on the lot of them and depart, never to hear another word about France for as long as she was able.

"We all have very little time, Sir Integra," Islands said, tone steely, "And I don't think it is necessary to tell you to treat him with respect. Perhaps he did mishandle the operation of this mission, but he is still a high-ranked official in France and he did travel all this way."

 _I'm sure those two hours in first-class were just grueling for him,_ Integra thought venomously. The doors opened again however, before she could voice another protest and the rest of the council members filed in—laughing and chattering like they were about to have a jolly old time. 

Sir Islands sent Integra a pointed look and she gritted her teeth, having no choice but to resign herself to her fate.

—-

They had been waiting for more than an hour by the time Lord Anguis arrived.

Integra rubbed her temples, wishing desperately for a cigar. Save for Sir Penwood, who had given her a friendly wave and she'd shared a few pleasantries with, the rest of the members had sent her cursory nods before settling into their seats. A rising gaggle of noise surrounded the table as the old men chattered with each other, exchanging pieces of gossip on Lord Anguis as if teenage girls about to meet a pop idol. It was disgusting and embarrassing and Integra had grown more sick of being in the room with each passing second.

Her only solace was that Walter had been productive, smoothly compiling information about the rooster seal on his phone, while Integra's eyes partially glazed over from staring too long at the chandelier. She had been in the middle of contemplating how exactly a single strand of cable could hold an object of such obscene mass when the doors suddenly clicked open.

The members sprang up with surprising speed, turning eagerly to face the entrance, as Integra rose at a far more reluctant pace. At the threshold was a spindly, dark-haired man with a pointed beard and harsh twin lines for a mustache. A considerably shorter and stockier man stood behind, flitting around the room with nervous, fearful eyes.

"Bonjour à tous," the former said smoothly, stepping inside the room, regarding the faces with a cool air.

The analytical part of Integra automatically noted down the man's features, from the ends of his wing-tipped shoes to the supercilious angle of his slicked head. A jagged feeling of dislike began forming within the pit of her stomach almost instantly.

Sir Islands stood, walking over to shake hands with the man. 

"Lord Anguis, I'm presuming. I am Sir Hugh Islands of the Round Table Council," he introduced, then with a hint of irritation, "It's a great pleasure, but we were expecting you a while ago."

Anguis smiled unapologetically, "Yes, yes, do forgive us. Whilst my companion and I were admiring the wonders of your marvelous city, we simply lost track of time. Oh, pardone moi, this is Commandant Jean Petit." He waved an uninterested hand at the man behind him, who bowed his head slightly and muttered a quiet 'bonjour.'

"Do not worry about lack of seating, Sir Islands, as Commandant Petit will not be joining us," he turned to the man, barking a clipped, "Va-t-en."

The man scurried out gratefully and Integra nearly rolled her eyes as Sir Islands took the moment when Anguis's back was turned to motion her over. 

"Before we begin, Lord Anguis, I would like to introduce Sir Integra Hellsing, Director of the Hellsing Organization." Integra could barely stop her lip from curling at the condescendingly surprised look shot at her. 

"My, this is a most pleasant surprise," Anguis hissed, moving in far too close, "I wasn't aware such a complex organization was led by a lovely mademoiselle such as yourself."

Integra stared back at him; up close, she noticed his eyes were a piercing light green, with the narrow pupils of a snake.

"Sir Hellsing, if you please," she said, and smirked caustically, "And I wasn't aware your people were capable of stranding my agents in the middle of a swamp for the night, but I suppose we both expected differently."

Sir Islands's glare was murderous, but Integra looked blithely away. She hadn't come with the intention of forming any so-called relations and she was already beginning to suspect Anguis hadn't either. As if to prove her right, the man's smile remained blank and icy.

"It seems we have plenty to discuss," he said eventually, gesturing toward the table. 

Integra returned to her seat without a word, ignoring the mixed looks of shock and outrage on the other members' faces. Walter was regarding Anguis disdainfully as both he and Sir Islands took their seats. 

_I don't know what you want,_ Integra thought darkly, _But I'll have you think twice before messing with what's mine._

—-

Pip yawned, stretching out long limbs on the rec room's couch, as he flipped dully through the television channels. It was late noon now, though it had been only twenty minutes since he'd dragged himself out of bed, and there was little else to do but waste away in front of the box. 

_Why fucking bother?_ a part of him thought cynically, the one that was feeling sorry for himself, _You can't hear it anyway._

The mercenary captain groaned and slumped further into the cushions. It'd been nice to pretend for a few minutes that he was just watching the TV on mute, before his subconscious got in the way again. 

Pip stared abjectly at an old documentary, wondering what it was about (pyramids? aliens?) before changing the channel a few times without really looking, eventually landing on some trash reality show. A flamboyant host was babbling enthusiastically from a pink tulip microphone, while three girls in threadbare bikinis stood in giant pie platters, smiling demonically at the audience. Pip paused for a long contemplative moment, regarding the bulging cleavages. When the whip cream appeared, he tossed the remote on the table and got comfortable. 

He was in the middle of trying to decipher whether the brunette's breasts were real or not through her facial expressions, when something landed with a smack against his chest, nearly making him fall off the couch. Fumbling and cursing, Pip sat up with a glare, only to be met with the amused expression of his lieutenant.

"What the hell, Silford?" he barked, swinging his legs down to the floor, "I already said I'd replace the damn flamethrower you bastard, why the hell are you throwing things at me?"

Silford just rolled his eyes and pointed at the box in Pip's lap. Since the Wild Geese had taken their captain's sudden disability in remarkable stride, he also slipped out a notepad and pen from his pocket.

_It's a hearing aid, Captain. Just got sent here for you by Doc Trevilian._

"Hearing aid?" Pip repeated, blinking down at the medium sized package, "You mean like for geezers?"

_Just open it, sir._

Shrugging, Pip lifted up the cardboard flaps, unraveling what had to be at least six layers of bubble wrap and foam padding, before reaching a pair of small crescent-shaped devices. "What the hell?" he breathed, picking one up with two fingers.

Silford sat down next to him, scribbling eagerly in his pad. _Try it out, Captain. See if it works._

"Yeah, but how do I do that?" Pip muttered, awkwardly flipping it around, only to have his lieutenant practically shove the instruction manual in his face. After a few minutes of skimming, he managed to get the aids powered on and hooked over his ears. 

"Mon Dieu, this is actually working," he murmured in awe, as he twisted the knobs of the adjuster. At first there was more background noise than anything, but as Pip continued tuning the device, bits and pieces of the television began filtering in.

"I can hear it, Lieutenant," he said again, vaguely giddy, as a catfight broke out between the brunette and the blonde on screen. When the host pushed them apart dramatically and spouted a few cliched lines of wisdom that were crystal clear, Pip lost it.

"I can fucking hear it!" he grabbed Silford by the collar, grin threatening to split his face, "Here, say something!"

The older man grinned knowingly back. "Well, your mom and I—"

Pip punched him in the shoulder.

"Ah, sorry, sorry," Silford said, wincing slightly as he rubbed his shoulder, "'Was just makin' sure you could actually hear me. You can get carried away sometimes, Cap'em."

Pip glared in irritation for a moment, but was too ecstatic to stay angry. "Next time it won't be your shoulder," he warned, turning back to the TV, though the threat was partially lost with his smile. The crisp, slobbery sound of the blonde blubbering into a tissue made part of him want to jump joyfully through the ceiling. It was only the suave, more image-minded side (what he liked to call his professional side) that saved him from that. 

"Want to watch the game?" he asked instead, picking up the remote.

Silford shrugged, a wry smile on as he leaned back. "Sure."

They flipped back to the sports channel, only to find a breaking news coverage splashed across the screen. The anchorwoman was announcing the possible arrival of a high-ranking French bureaucrat at the Langham Hotel, making Silford look at him.

"Who's Lord Aquine, Cap'em?" 

Pip shrugged, "How would I know? I lived there till I was sixteen and then bolted. It's political shit anyway."

He was about to change channels again, when a fuzzy photograph of a tall, snakey man in the Elysee Palace suddenly popped up. Pip snorted at the large, grossly expensive looking pin on his lapel, "You sure his name isn't Lord Queen instead?"

Silford sent him an odd look, "It's a rooster."

"Yeah, and it has more diamonds than all the women put together." Though it did look vaguely familiar for some reason…

His lieutenant was shaking his head in disbelief. "Christ, you really don't know anything about your country, do you Cap'em? Rooster's France's national bird."

Pip stared at him. "If you're trying to impress me right now, Lieutenant, I'm afraid you—"

Then it hit him. 

"HOLY SHIT!" Pip spun back to the screen with a dinner plate eye, scaring the life out of Silford. 

"Sir?! What's wrong?" But Pip was already off the couch and tearing down the hall.

—-

The sun had bled a deep scarlet across the horizon when Seras peeled open her murky eyes. Ugh, I fell asleep after all, she thought groggily, gingerly sitting up from her twisted position on the couch, Sir Integra's going to be angry. 

Thinking it was better to apologize sooner than later, Seras staggered upright, only to trip over the blanket caught around her legs. With a shriek, and furious wind-milling arms that saved her from a face-plant, she fell hard on her butt.

"Bloody hell," Seras muttered, rubbing her sore rear, "What a great week so far…" She was about to rise when a cold hand grabbed her forearm. 

_Your voice remains unfailingly shrill, police girl,_ Alucard grumbled, lifting her bodily to her feet. 

Seras blushed slightly. "I'm sorry, Master. Did I wake you?" 

_No,_ Alucard sent a faintly confused look at the armchair and blanket he had awoken tangled up in, _It's not possible to sleep well outside a coffin._

Seras mentally disagreed, having missed her bed since day one, though it explained why she felt sluggish instead of the usual rejuvenated feeling.

"We should go see if Sir Integra still needs us. She's probably angry," Seras reminded him, afraid he was going to tumble into his coffin for another three hours and get into even more trouble.

As it would have it, Alucard was actually about to sink into the sweet, dank darkness of the basement, when the matter graced his thoughts again. _Whatever it was, it likely wasn't important,_ he commented disinterestedly, even as he stretched careful tendrils across the mind link, attempting to gauge his master's mood (and whether he needed to push Seras into the office and make a run for it).

His fledgling frowned, about to reprimand her sire on responsibility, when a cool rush of surprise flooded their bond. "Master?" she asked, raising her sightless eyes. 

_She's not here,_ Alucard stared at the doors with slight bewilderment.

"Huh?" Seras looked nervous, flashes of Integra being assaulted and kidnapped while they slept on obliviously ran through her mind, "Did something happen to her?"

Alucard didn't answer, calmly trying to pinpoint Integra's location, fueled with more curiosity than actual worry. If anything serious had happened to his master, he would've already known. 

_The Langham,_ he grinned at the droning atmosphere he was sensing when he fixed on her, _In a meeting._

And quite an extravagant one too. He could hear the echoing clink of wine glasses and silverware. 

"Wow, I use to dream of spending a week at the Langham," Seras marveled, though after a moment blinked in confusion, "Why would she be having a meeting there?"

Alucard snorted. Trust his fledgling to think about such insignificant details. The way he saw it, Integra was unharmed and he was still tired, so the whole thing was a perfect excuse for some decent sleep.

 _Let's go,_ he said, tugging Seras forward by the wrist.

"G-Go?" she parroted, shuffling quickly to match his long strides so he wasn't dragging her, "Where are we going?"

 _Downstairs,_ was the simple reply, _It's hard to sleep up here._

Seras made a face. If it was going to be one of those rare nights without missions she'd rather not waste any of it unconscious.

_Either sleep or drink, police girl. Your choice._

"On second thought, it wouldn't hurt to catch a few hours before rising again." Alucard grinned at her rapid decision. Sooner or later, she'd have to feed again, but for now he pulled her along.

Seras followed her sire through the hallway, feeling strangely comforted by the large icy hand over hers. A corner of her mind feared he was going to guide her into a wall just for kicks, but it beat clinging to the paneling by so much she hardly cared. 

To her pleasant surprise though, Alucard was relatively careful as they descended the stairs. They were nearing the kitchen that led down to the basement when loud rummaging and swearing was heard from the laundry room.

Simultaneously, both of them turned to glance in, but only Alucard stared blankly. Seras tilted her head at the familiar French accent.

"Pip?"

The mercenary spun around with blurring speed, nearly dropping a pair of trousers he had bundled in his hands. He was frozen like a deer caught in headlights, before his brain interpreted who the figures standing in the shadows were. 

"Oh, it's you guys," he breathed, slumping, "God, would it kill you to make some sound when you're walking?"

An astonished look crossed Seras's face, "You can hear me?"

Pip's face split into a momentary grin at mention of his reacquired ability. 

"Yeah, the doc got me a hearing aid," he gestured proudly at his mechanized ears, though the only reaction he got was an unimpressed glance from Alucard.

Seras smiled kindly, "That's great, Captain. What were you doing in here anyway?"

"Just looking for something," Pip held out a closed fist, "I found it in the wreck."

He opened his palm.

Seras heard her master snort. _What is that? An insect?_


	8. Chapter 8

"A BUG?!" Seras screeched, flailing ten feet backwards.

"What?" Pip blinked incredulously at her, "No! It's a rooster." He shifted it to give them a better look, completely forgetting that Seras couldn't have seen it anyway. Alucard's eyes, however, dilated at the bright gleam as it inadvertently caught the light. 

"See? How does it look like…" Pip trailed off with a croak, when Alucard suddenly sauntered right up to him, wearing a wide, slightly dazed grin.

"Uh…?!"

"Master?" Seras called, inching carefully back to his side, "What is it?" There wasn't a reply, so with a burst of courage, she reached for his arm. A single thought broadcasted through the second they touched.

_SHINY._

Seras sighed, breaking contact before her master's psychosis made her brain explode. 

"You said it was a rooster?" she asked, changing the subject. 

Pip continued giving Alucard uneasy glances, but nodded. "Yeah, well, it's shaped like one." He quickly relayed his discovery at the wreck, along with the photograph he saw and the arrival of Anguis at the Langham. 

Seras shrugged, "Okay, so that's why Sir Integra is likely at the Langham for. I don't see how it makes the pin important. If he's the head of this whole bloody whatever, couldn't they have accidentally dropped it while investigating the castle?"

Pip scoffed, "They couldn't even stay in the woods long enough to pick us up."

"Those were just the pilots," Seras snapped, "You can't generalize that to the whole team. And even if it were some fancy government pin, what are you so excited about? Is it suppose to mean something?"

_It means, police girl, that we have been lied to._

Seras snapped her head upward, where Alucard was still gazing lovingly at Pip's hand. 

"What do you mean, Master?" she asked, confused, eliciting a strange look from the captain.

Alucard just smiled and plucked the pin from a startled Pip's fingers.

_Did I ever mention Master said the reports were all from witnesses? Confused, unreliable humans, whose fear twisted everything they saw. Supposedly, the officials did not even tread on the land._

Seras's eyes widened as understanding dawned on her. "What? But…but why would they lie about never being there?"

The No-Life King spared his fledgling an amused crimson eye. _Why do humans ever lie?_

Seras bit her lip. The obvious answer was something extremely important was hidden there, enough to be willing to risk an international crisis over. Yet the creatures at the house had seemed wholly wild to her, and it was the French government that had requested Hellsing to eliminate them in the first place.

"Er," Pip suddenly said, officially lost again, "Did something just happen?"

Seras jumped, having forgotten he was there again, and felt the blush rise to her cheeks. "O-Oh, sorry, Captain!" 

Alucard grinned coldly, as Seras repeated everything to Pip. He grazed long thin fingers over the pin's side, icy energy slithering from it up his hands, dry and clammy like a rotten bone. It was the heady feeling of dark magic, of something ancient and primal and full of hatred. 

His grin widened.

"Mon Dieu," Pip was shaking his head in disbelief, "This is what is wrong with France in the first place. Too many snakes in the government."

"We need to tell Sir Integra," Seras insisted, "Maybe she can get an explanation for all this."

"An explanation?" Pip gaped, "Are you kidding? We're blind, deaf and mute and you just want an explanation?"

"Well, we can't go interrogate this guy on our own! He's an elite government official with the press on his heels and two of us are technically dead!"

"So what, you want to handle it the _official_ way? All you're getting out of that is some shitty excuse and a put-on apology."

"There's no other way to do it! It's not like we've genuine proof what happened to us has anything to do with this guy."

"Why else would he lie about the investigation if he had nothing to do with it?! Mon Dieu, mignonette, you're kind of naïve, you know that? Look, I'm not saying we need to interrogate him. But how do you expect to get the truth from an 'official explanation?'"

"It's not our place, Pip!" 

Pip rolled his eye, crossing his arms and Seras's cheeks puffed slightly in irritation, glare misdirected at his chin. Alucard touched her left shoulder, an amused tinge to his tone.

_As entertaining as your unresolved sexual tension is, there are easier ways of obtaining answers._

Seras blushed, "Wh-What?! What are you talking about, Master?"

Alucard's teeth glimmered as he smiled, red eyes curving into leering crescents.

—-

_How exactly is this easier?_ Seras thought semi-hysterically, as she listened to the distant wail of patrol sirens. 

"Turn off your headlights," she hissed at Pip in the driver's seat next to her, skin crawling at the prospect of being caught.

"If I turn them off here, we might run into a tree," he hissed back, but obediently shut them off for a few moments, "What are you so nervous about anyway? I doubt the police even know about this route."

_Why is this what you're freaking out over?_ Was what Seras could pick up in his tone. She sympathized. In the back seat, her master was stretched out like a sated cat, nonchalantly polishing his guns and making the sweat run cold down both their necks.

"Just keep it on low beam," she replied and sunk further in her seat, wondering how it had gotten to this point in the first place.

Due to some deranged work of logic on her master's part, he'd concluded both their ideas summarized in the end as useless inaction and that it would be so much simpler if he just went to the Langham and sucked the information out of a jugular or two. Needless to say, Seras's undead heart fell somewhere into her shoes and Pip paled to the point of near translucency. 

They'd spent the next few minutes shamelessly begging Alucard to reconsider. In hindsight, it was almost funny that they'd even bothered; once her master made up his mind, everything was futile. The political backlash did little to move a man whose version of politics revolved around impaling anyone who gave him sass on ten feet pikes. And he'd already been caught by the press (and hastily covered up) so many times that the thought didn't even register as a big deal anymore.

Only her desperate question about how he was to get there when prohibited from leaving grounds gave him pause. And that was for a total of ten seconds before he just decided they'd be coming with him, since it wasn't technically 'leaving' if someone was taking him. 

Seras didn't need to see to feel Pip's death glare on her. 

In a last ditch attempt, she tried appealing to that single microscopic shred of sympathy he possessed and blurted, "If you drink all his blood you'll kill him!" 

His reply was a shrug, _I won't drink all of it._

Then he was out the door and the next thing they knew, they were arguing over which illegal back road to take to avoid the press.

Seras sighed, shifting in her seat as she thought about the hundreds of cameras they'd need to avoid once they arrived. Ridiculously, the chance of getting seen bothered her more than participating in the random attack of a foreign official. 

She wondered idly if she had finally desensitized to the bloody nature of her new life, which only served to be more depressing, because it meant being one step closer to the violent, insane wreck that was her master on most days.

A loud, enclosing siren shattered her thoughts.

Pip squawked in surprise, swerving slightly, "Shit!"

"Turn off your lights, turn off your lights…!" Seras chanted hysterically at him.

"How am I suppose to turn them off right here?!" They were at the curve of a steep cliff, winding down from Hellsing manor and into London. With no barriers but a rusty, mutilated guide-rail and an unpaved trail, Pip was beginning to see why the road had been roped off.

Not that he couldn't maneuver it, since he'd pretty much driven through everything, but some light would have been _very_ appreciated. 

"Just turn them off," Seras said, head turned nervously toward the pitch darkness of the forest, "They're going to see us."

"They're going to see us if we go hurtling over the cliffside!"

Seras's retort was cut off by an ominous metallic click. A second later, the silver sheen of Casull's muzzle glinted in the rearview mirror. Alucard was grinning, upper torso suddenly half-out the back window, and cocked his gun—red eyes glittering eagerly as they gazed into the darkness. 

"Master…?" Seras squeaked, blind eyes wide as saucers.

"Never mind," Pip said, laughing shrilly, "I'll turn them off, I'll turn them off…!"

He drove the entire pitch-black curve with his heart blasting through his ribcage, probably deafening the vampires. It would've been embarrassing if Seras hadn't also been crumpling the dashboard in her death grip.

By some miracle, he made it over the narrow bend and Pip was so limp with relief he crashed right through the police barrier leading into the city without caring. 

"Captain!" Seras snapped, though with little fire as she finally released the abused dashboard. Alucard looked like he was enjoying the ride.

They sped through the remaining woods and Pip slid neatly onto the first paved street he saw—a harder task than usual considering the amount of congestion on the road. While London was a conglomeration of lights and noise every night, traffic was especially heavy with police and news vans tonight. 

"God, is he that big of a deal?" Pip complained, after crawling three centimeters forward in ten minutes. 

"Shouldn't you know?" Seras muttered, unimpressed, and Alucard gave him a sardonic look.

"I left when I was sixteen!"

It took a good hour to make it to the Langham, despite it being only a few blocks away. Alucard spent the time making scary faces at neighboring drivers, nearly causing a huge collision, while Pip and Seras tried to become one with the leather backs of their seats. 

The number of police and press cars doubled as they got closer, lining the streets with flashing lights. By the time they'd made it to the front of the towering hotel, a thick blockade of messily parked vans were in their way. Mobs of reporters and cameramen could be seen crowding the huge doors, barely being fended off by Scotland Yard.

Pip wound his way carefully through the clutter, needing every inch of skill he possessed to navigate through without scratching the car. The vans were strewn in every direction and Pip's single eye flitted around in vain for a place to park unnoticed.

He was just about to give up and try circling the building when a thin white-gloved hand suddenly pointed toward the left side of the windshield.

Pip turned slightly, "Mr. Alucard?"

The elder vampire smiled and gestured again. Pip followed to where he was pointing and saw a huge garage entrance next to the hotel. A line of news vans that had not made a spot up front were trailing into it.

"Oh." Pip said blankly, wondering how he had missed something so big, "Thanks."

"This is such a bad idea…" Seras mumbled below her breath, and was ignored.

They entered the garage concealed behind a monstrous sized van with satellite dishes nailed to its roof. With most of the vehicles parked in a crowd at the lot's front, it was relatively easy for Pip to find a shadowed corner to slide their car into. A cameraman sprinted by as Alucard literally phased through the car door and didn't spare them a glance. 

"A guy who wears jewelry that big shouldn't be so popular," Pip muttered in disgust, shutting his door. Alucard privately agreed, though he was beginning to wonder if Anguis's pin served more purposes than aesthetics. Seras clambered out last, groping her shaky way next to him with the help of the car.

"How are we suppose to do this, Master?" she was still whining, "I can't do anything. I can't even see. I'll…I'll just be a burden…"

Alucard scowled at her. Sometimes, it was like no matter what he did, his fledgling would not grow a spine.

_Stop whining,_ he snapped, _Why don't you try adapting for once?_

Seras flinched with slight hurt at his tone, but quickly bristled, "I've only been blind for a day!"

Alucard was indifferent, _Exactly._

And then he was heading impatiently toward the elevator. Seras gaped after him, gaze slightly off so it was directed at a nearby soda machine instead. There was a beat of silence before Pip walked up next to the draculina, touching her hand awkwardly. "Uh, c'mon, mignonette, we should go…"

Seras sighed, shoulders slumping in glum defeat as she let him guide her inside. 

The main lobby was flooded with people: frazzled employees, barking policemen and a small crowd of reporters and cameramen who had half spilled through the revolving door, trampling the Egyptian carpets beneath muddy heels. There was much yelling and scrambling about as the cameramen twisted and turned to get better angles, and reporters pelted rapid-fire questions at startled guests. 

"Bloody hell," Seras's hands flew to her ears, forlorn mood temporarily dispersed, "It's a zoo in here."

"Guess he is a big deal then," Pip muttered, staring at a small group of DST agents talking with Scotland Yard officers. 

Alucard's eyes narrowed in irritation behind his glasses as he watched the chaos. The sheer volume was beginning to give him a headache and he grabbed Seras's hand.

_Go find out where the room is._

Seras's eyes widened, "Wh-What?"

_You heard me. Go._

"B-But what am I suppose to say?"

How should I know? Think of something.

"Think of—but Master…"

Alucard broke contact to shoot venomous looks at a particularly loud camera crew winding their way over.

"Look at it this way," Pip supplied, having pieced together what they were talking about, "You're blind now."

Seras glared daggers at him. "How bloody observant of you."

"I mean you're at an advantage," Pip said, nodding sagely, "No one's going to offend someone blind. You'll have a much better chance of getting the room number than any of the guys here. And, you know, you're a woman, so you've got that going for you too."

She stared at him. "I didn't think it was possible for you to demean me any further than you already have, Captain, but I've been wrong a lot lately." 

"What? I'm just saying that it'll be eas—"

A slightly demonic-looking Alucard cut him off mid-word, shoving pass him to give his fledgling a push toward the front desk. 

_The noise is unbearable. Go already._

Seras sighed, feeling much like she was being dangled off the end of a long fishing pole, "Alright, alright."

—-

Integra grinded her mutilated cigar into the ashtray for the sixth time, taking sick pleasure in imagining it as Anguis's head. 

"No, as I've said repeatedly, Hellsing will not be taking part in any more missions."

"How is this reasonable?" a random council member demanded, "The amount of compensation being considered here should not be left to Sir Hellsing alone to decide."

Angry voices of assent rose around the room, as fingers were pointed and accusations made. 

"Have we not all worked hard in this council?"

"We deserve a word in the negotiations!"

A particularly rancorous member shot her a spiteful look, "She would rather bask in the Queen's favor here in England than risk disgrace and failure in France!"

"That is enough!" Sir Islands roared, before Integra could explode at the man. Pinning the member with a look capable of melting metal, he snapped, "You are never to make such baseless accusations against others in my council. Watch your tongue or get out."

The man visibly cowed at Sir Islands' fury and backed down, though others quickly rose to take his place.

Sir Penwood curled into his seat slightly, fidgeting with his gloves, "I don't really see what all the fuss is about…I-I mean, it's not like we need money." 

Integra's lip curled in disgust at the disgraceful show of greed being displayed around the room. Yet her icy, hateful eyes never broke contact once with the pair settled at the table's opposing end.

Anguis sat with his shoulders back, skeletal fingers clasped loosely in smug recline. His face was smooth of emotion, though his eyes glinted like the edge of a blade. He looked at her like a snake would surrounded by fat, wriggling rats.

"Am I correct in assuming then, mademoiselle," he said, and his voice sliced violently through the noise, "That your duty and sympathy toward victims of the undead are limited by geographical boundaries?"

Several council members quickly moved to reply, but Sir Islands silenced them all with a look. 

"You can assume whatever you like, Lord Anguis," Integra said, face like a blank sheet of ice, "But if it satisfies your curiosity, you are quite incorrect. My organization is perfectly willing to travel lands and seas in our fight against the undead."

Anguis's eyebrow twitched slightly, "Oh? So what you are saying is that my country is being specifically excluded then?"

Integra smiled coolly at the man, despite the green-pale and puce colors many of the other council members were turning. 

"Of course not, sir, we have every intention of assisting France as long as the operations are carried under our own command."

"You bloody…!" The same ornery member from before exclaimed, about to rise to his feet, before Sir Islands killed his voice with a glare.

"I'm sure Sir Integra has a reasonable explanation for her words," the leader of the council said amiably at a stunned Anguis, though his eyes shot an angry warning at Integra.

"Ce n'est pas grave. We must let the mademoiselle speak her mind," Anguis smiled sharply, recovering within a blink, "Though I do believe considering the amount being discussed that—"

"You seem to be under the misconception that price plays any role in negotiations with me," Integra cut in abruptly, "My first priorities are the safety of my men and the citizens, as I'm sure, are yours as well. Understand, any possible scenarios that could arise would simply be dealt with more effectively under familiar command. Surely, you will not refuse my request out of any _personal offense._ "

For the first time since the beginning of this hell, Anguis's features flattened in anger, sending a burst of satisfaction through Integra she could hardly keep off her face.

It wasn't lasting however, as the man's green eyes glittered coldly. 

"I'm afraid I cannot accept your proposal, mademoiselle. In ordinary circumstances, I would put the security of my people before my very life. However, as your queen has informed us, the existence of…a special soldier within your organization changes things."

Behind her, Walter, who had been silent as the grave till now, stiffened. A wave of uneasy murmurs rose around the table over the usually taboo subject. Integra's eyes narrowed wordlessly.

"Now I do not claim to be an expert such as yourself, but I have taken the liberty of researching the "personal nature" of your agent."

Integra's fists clenched against the table.

"He is under complete control," she replied tightly, "Any transgression is dealt with swift discipline."

"As I'm certain it is," Anguis said suavely, scrutinizing a speck of dust on the rim of his wine glass, "But you see, in my research I've come across a worrisome piece of information. It appears that, pardonnez-moi, vampires possess a deep attraction to objects of particular shine."

A pool of dread began forming in the pit of Integra's stomach as she heard Walter inching closer. They were both all too aware of Alucard's strange obsession and the horrific messes it could make. Not even a hundred years of lashings and torture had beaten it out of him. 

"It is instinctual. He can't help that," was her curt reply, "I don't see how it's relevant to the current discussion." 

"La Maison de la sorcière, the castle that you sent your vampire to, was a place of great historical and sentimental value to my people. It was also home to a considerable collection of priceless artifacts before it was infested."

There were several gasps and angry mutters around the table, though Sir Islands' face remained perfectly blank. Integra's eyes narrowed further.

"I was never informed of anything being inside."

Anguis's eyebrows raised fractionally, "How odd. I remember personally including it in the report. Well, you will have to forgive me, mademoiselle, the missing artifacts, the utter destruction of one of our most beloved landmarks and the recorded tendencies of your agent simply leads me to believe…"

Integra bit the inside of her cheek hard. The sudden urge to stab her steak knife through Anguis's throat was overwhelming.

"Are you… _daring_ to imply my men stole your artifacts?"

"Sir Integra," Sir Islands warned again, but Integra didn't even hear him. Her eyes were drilling holes into Anguis, who raised his hands in mock pacification.

"Dear mademoiselle, let's not be so angry. I would never insinuate your men would do anything of the sort," his voice lowered, nearly to a hiss, "Your _vampire_ though is another matter." 

He continued before anyone could speak, fingering the edge of his own steak knife.

"They are much like animals, aren't they? Uncontrollable habits, feral appetites, minds honed by instinct. You keep yours on a "leash" of sorts, no? I'm sure no man in Hellsing would dishonor himself so by taking that which does not belong to him. But your pet, it would not be dishonor to him, would it? I think you'll find my reluctance to let an animal wander across my country is—"

"How _dare_ you…"

"…Excuse me?"

Integra's nails were nearly embedded into her palm, and she had to pause to rein her temper in enough to remove the quiver from her voice. 

"No mention was made anywhere in that report of historical significance being attached to the site or the presence of any "artifacts." You incorrectly labeled the target as a small threat and allowed my agents to go in unprepared, and then failed to pick them up, which was the only task your people had to do. And now, now you're accusing…"

"Sir Integra," Sir Islands interrupted calmly, "I think before you let your temper get the better of you, that you examine the facts and history of your creature more carefully."

"I don't need anyone to tell me what to think of him," Integra said coldly, not even sparing the elder man a glance, "He didn't steal anything."

Anguis looked at her dismissively, "Forgive me if I don't take your word for it."

Integra's grip on the steak knife tightened.

—-

"You know, Captain, if you think about it, you kind of stole this," Seras murmured, twisting the rooster pin between her two fingers. 

Pip turned his head to give her a mildly offended look, "Maybe if you want to get technical, but that thing is the only reason we know what happened wasn't some freak accident, so I think you should let it slide already."

Seras shrugged, "I'm just saying." She flipped the pin over in the palm of her hand, outlining the edge of its jewel-encrusted crown with her fingertip, having yet to feel whatever "energy" Alucard had demanded she search for, before flicking the thing at her. 

So far, nothing. It had an unusually cool temperature, especially against her undead flesh, but otherwise she didn't know what her master was talking about, which was sadly par for the course by this point.

"It's kind of a strange design," she commented, "Well, I guess it does make sense, since it's the national bird and all…"

"How the hell does everyone know that?" Pip muttered incredulously, scowling at the floor sign as they climbed to another platform, "Merde, it's only the third floor? We've climbed like eighteen flights!"

Seras nodded sympathetically, "It's a big place." After being hastily informed that Anguis had reserved the penthouse for the next week, Alucard had promptly melted into the shadows, leaving Seras and Pip to trudge up a million flights of emergency stairs after him. 

"I still can't believe they even told me what floor he's on." 

In front of her, Pip snorted at the memory, "Told you? They parted like the Red Sea."

"It does say a bit about the media, I suppose."

"Doesn't it always?" he replied amusedly, before sighing in frustration at the endless spiral of stairs ahead of them and giving her a look, "I still don't get why you won't let me lead you up. It'd be ten times faster than this."

Seras's face colored. "Well, I figured I should start trying to get use to my surroundings like this," she said softly, before her face twisted in annoyance, "I have to 'adapt' you know?"

Her companion made a thoughtful, but not unsympathetic noise. "He seems a bit hard to please, doesn't he?"

She sighed in defeat, "If only you knew. You can go ahead if you want, Captain; it would be faster."

Pip shrugged, "Non, I'll stay. We'll get there eventually," he turned to keep climbing, missing Seras's small smile, "I just hope your master won't get too impatient."

She immediately winced, "Well, if we're lucky, he might've already done whatever he needed to do by the time we show up and we can just leave."

Pip snorted, "And climb back down fifty flights again?"

The draculina giggled, "Yeah."

And then the moment was shattered before it even had a chance to form by a ear-splitting crash somewhere above them. They both flinched, hands automatically flying to cover their heads before they realized the ceiling wasn't going to collapse on them. Then it was just from one heart-stopping scare to the next as they simultaneously processed the only likely being responsible for the sound. 

"Master!" Seras yelled up the flights uselessly, not expecting a reply. Their bond, still unexplainably fuzzy and weak, gave her no clues.

"Oh, no," she muttered in horror, and for a moment, Pip just gaped dumbly at the ceiling, before remembering to move. 

"Let's go!" he called, grabbing her hand without warning. 

Seras suppressed a sigh, trying to keep up so she wasn't being dragged. So much for adapting.


	9. Chapter 9

They sprinted up the rest of the steps in record time and had to skid behind a wall to avoid the hotel staff that were just rushing in. 

There was a trail of white smoke in the hallway, stinking of fried wires and melted glass. It wound its way to a room adjacent to an intersection of halls, where several employees and nosy guests were hurrying over to. A woman's loud enraged screeches could be heard inside. Seras and Pip scuttled to a nearby corner to peek in.

An expensively dressed American woman was shrieking at a worker, as two hysterical teenage girls clung to each other in the background, "I was just watching a movie with my babies when the tv suddenly exploded! Do you people have any idea what proper wiring is? And with the prices you charge us! Well, your manager will be having a talk with my husband…!"

"Mon Dieu," Pip muttered, as he caught sight of what remained of the television, which was nothing more now than a pile of shrapnel with jagged pieces of glass sticking out of it. Streaks of soot and ash were splattered across the cream wallpaper and orange sparks were still rising from behind the shattered screen. It looked like a miniature grenade had gone off inside it.

"Must've been a pretty shitty movie," he quipped weakly. 

"Oh, God, we need to find him" Seras said, anxiously tugging on Pip's hand. The captain didn't budge though, and closer inspection saw that he was mesmerized by the expansive wine cabinet further inside the room.

"Holy fuck, is that Montrachet?" 

"Captain!" she snarled, turning back to smack him, when an icy hand suddenly clamped down on her wrist. 

I keep telling you to quiet down, a voice rippled through her head, before the familiar shudder of passing through a portal crawled down her spine. Next to her, the captain cursed in surprise.

Seras barely waited for her surroundings to solidify again before flipping out.

"Master, what the heck?! Did you shoot their telly?"

Alucard frowned at her, dropping her arm and Pip's braid, which he had used to yank them both through a wall and into an unoccupied suite.

_It was there again._

"What?"

Alucard twitched, _That filth. The one with thirty-minute pauses between lines and the obscure sparkling in the sunlight. It was there again, multiplying, poisoning the world. It deserved death._

For a moment, Seras just stared, before it suddenly clicked. 

Consequently, an overwhelming wave of exasperation crashed into her instead. She sighed, hanging her head, "I never should have showed you that movie." 

_It would be a complete miracle if they left this place without being seen._

"Looks like the smoke's clearing up," Pip noted obliviously, having wandered over to the door's peephole. A line of disgruntled guests were being herded away by listless employees. "Oh, hey, they're evacuating the floor." 

Seras brightened slightly at the news. It was always nice to know something productive came from her master's destructive fit.

Alucard, himself, looked entirely nonchalant.

_Why does that matter?_ He said, heading towards the nearby wall. _It's only two doors down anyway._

Seras nodded, "Yeah, but the halls will be emp—WAIT, WHAT?"

Without thinking, she leapt forward blindly, somehow managing to grab Alucard's wrist and surprise her master enough into pausing.

"You mean the penthouse right?" she said nervously, sightless eyes like two full moons in the darkness, "That's where he is right? We're only going to the penthouse right?" 

Silence. Alucard cocked a slender eyebrow at the young vampire, while Pip just sent a perfunctorily confused stare at both of them. 

_Did you do as I told you, police girl?_ Alucard finally said, frowning down at his fledgling.

Seras's wince was tiny, nearly microscopic, but he saw it anyway. He always did.

Alucard sighed in disgust, unknowingly making Seras's face crumple. He supposed he should have expected it. Even when in close contact with the pin, the energy was remarkably thin—a single ugly thread against the myriad of scents and sounds in the world; not something a half-starved fledgling could detect. 

He scowled, considerably miffed; still though, he thought he'd likely find her overwhelming self-rejection less annoying if she surprised him now and again. 

_It's two doors down,_ he coldly shook off Seras's hand, _Hurry up._

The girl blinked uselessly. "Huh? W-Wait, master…"

She reached out again, catching nothing but air this time and fell flat on her face from where she tripped over the edge of a rug. Immediately though, she sprung back to her feet. 

"Master?!"

"Uh," Pip said, watching the tips of Alucard's coat melt into the wall, "Is he going somewhere?"

"I don't know!" she said frantically, whipping her head back to Pip, "He said two doors down."

Pip's eyebrows rose and he turned back to the door incredulously. 

"Two doors down…?" he muttered, but grabbed the knob regardless and pulled it back, "I thought it was the pent—"

The words died as a gun suddenly materialized in his face. 

"PUT YOUR HANDS UP!" A voice shouted, nearly indecipherable with its thick French accent. 

This is becoming a little too familiar, Pip thought, staring down the dark barrel as he obeyed. 

His assailant was a dark-haired man dressed in black suit and trousers, with another identically dressed blonde man behind him, also brandishing his gun. DST badges glinted at Pip from the shoulders of their uniforms. 

"Walk slowly out of the room," the first man barked at him, "Don't try anything or I will blow your brains out."

Their faces were pinched and suspicious as they glared at him, weapons raised menacingly, though Pip hadn't felt a wisp of fear of the French authorities since he was twelve years old. Nevertheless, he did as he was told. The blonde man snatched him as soon as he was close enough and wrenched his arms behind his back.

"We have two potential suspects cornered on the sixth floor. The affected room is diagonal to our location now. The television was in close range," he said in French into a radio, "First suspect has been apprehended. A male of roughly six feet in height. Does not seem to have any of the suspected explosives or bomb triggers within his possession."

Pip stared blatantly at his arrestor, wondering if his hearing aid had even processed that correctly.

"We're moving for the second suspect now," the blonde man finished, just as his partner began moving forward into the darkened room. 

"Come out with your hands up!" he demanded, again in mutilated English.

Nothing but silence greeted him. The dark-haired man dipped his head into the shadows, eyes narrowed into slits, as if he could somehow see more by doing it. His long brows furrowed, in that blend of focus and frustration that was a man straining his ears. Pip nearly laughed—no amount of eye or ear straining would ever find Seras if she didn't want to be found.

But he held his tongue, and his captor moved closer, perhaps sensing the fearlessness in him. "I wouldn't try anything if I were you," he hissed, prodding the gun between Pip's shoulder blades, "My finger could always slip."

_How professional of you,_ Pip thought blandly, as the man jabbed him with the gun again. It was hard to feel threatened by a puny Glock 23 when a bazooka had been aimed at his face just yesterday night.

But for the sake of the man's pride and finding an opening, Pip kept still. The blonde man, observing that his captive seemed passive, felt confident enough to fiddle again with his radio. 

Simultaneously, the dark-haired man reached for the light switch and the opening was there.

With blinding suddenness, Pip's head flew backwards, ramming the hardest part of his skull into the most vulnerable part of his captor's. The man crumpled to the ground noiselessly.

His partner whirled around in shock, gun trained squarely between Pip's eyes. However, he only had enough time to spit a curse and notice the pity in Pip's smile, before something hard and freezing smashed into his back. 

With barely a yelp, the man went down, darkness smashing into him as he hit the ground. 

"Are you alright, Captain?" Seras asked, shifting her weight off the unconscious man. 

"Not a scratch, girlie," Pip replied, though feeling mildly disappointed, "Did you have to take him out that way? What a lucky bastard."

"Don't start. You should be glad I even hit him, I was relying on scent alone," Seras snapped, "What happened anyway?"

"The other guy said they were investigating what made the tv explode. They probably think there are bombers or explosives in the hotel."

For a moment, Seras stood there in stunned silence. Then she sighed deeply and ran her fingers through her hair.

"So much for stealth again," she muttered, sounding incredibly tired, "We should go."

They dragged the two unconscious bodies hastily into the empty suite, bashing in the doorknob for good measure before heading down the hall. When they arrived at the correct room, Seras pressed her ear carefully to the door.

"No sounds of snapped spines or blood-curdling screams," she noted to Pip, who just shrugged in confusion at her.

The first thing that greeted them when the door opened was a pair of boots, propped up on the edge of an intricately carved coffee table. 

_You took your time,_ Alucard commented, semi-boredly, reclining on a plush leather armchair.

"Master," Seras hissed, staggering her way over to the elder vampire, "We need to get out of here. The captain and I were just attacked by these big french people and now they think we're a load of bombers trying to blow up the hotel!"

Alucard stared at her, looking neither particularly alarmed or concerned.

_And? Has this somehow frightened you?_

Seras's cheeks puffed slightly in frustration, "That's not what I mean! Ohhh, Master, if you just hadn't shot that telly in the first place…!"

Pip winced slightly, feeling a deep pang of sympathy for Seras as she continued "arguing" with her sire, who didn't even seem to be listening. But as they were currently occupied, the Wild Geese captain took the moment to wander a bit away and observe the room they'd broken into.

Despite the shadows from the drawn curtains, a single light from a nearby lamp revealed an excessively expensive-looking suite. It had cream wallpaper and dark oaken furniture, with all the chairs cushioned by soft white velvet. A television screen was stretched across half the western wall, with a neat arrangement of leather couches positioned before it. Bundles of delicate hyacinths and callas graced the top of every surface in crystalline vases.

Pip's nose wrinkled, feeling slightly irritated by the sight. Spending the better part of his life sleeping on moldy mattresses and the occasional rat-infested trench could do that. 

"…so let's just go, alright Master? Please? What if they—mmf!"

Immediately, Pip whirled around in surprise, only to see Alucard had slapped a hand over Seras's mouth again. His expression didn't seem impatient or vexed however, and looked more gleeful than anything else.

For an inexplicable, but plenty suicidal reason, Pip began speaking, "Um, Mister Alucard—"

A simple look shut him up swiftly.

However, Alucard did point to a closed door near the couches. 

Pip stared for a moment, having not even noticed it was there. "What the…" Quietly, he edged closer to the jamb.

The faint sound of water from a showerhead drifted through the wood.

Pip's first instinct was to reach for his hearing aid, adjusting the knobs to make sure he wasn't imagining it. The sound didn't change and he could've sworn, was now being accompanied by a falsetto rendition of Habanera.

"Holy shit," was all Pip could say, as he turned to the two vampires, "Holy shit, is there still someone in here?"

Seras's eyes widened almost comically, though Alucard's knife-like grin answered it all. Releasing his fledgling, he glided over to a long couch, leaning lightly against the back of it so he could directly face the door. The single lamp lighting the room fizzled out with a wave of his ghostly hand, plunging the room into darkness.

Seras and Pip stayed where they were, frozen. The showerhead had shut off and the doorknob was turning.

—-

"… Rien n’y fait, menace ou prière! L’un parle bien, l’autre se tait…!"

Jean Petit bellowed at the top of his lungs as he turned off the water and wrapped a robe around himself. He stepped out of the shower stall and inhaled deeply, pushing away the general stresses of his current situation from his mind. 

The deaths of a few nameless villagers and a couple novice officers should not be troubling his conscience so deeply. Not when he knew it wasn't his fault.

_What chance could you have had?_ Anguis had said, _You knew not who she was. What she was. All you knew was that people were dying. And so perhaps, you sent your men to slaughter. But in the end, how could you have known? She is a creature so beyond the capabilities of your mind to comprehend, petit commandant. How could a small, weak little man like you have ever done anything?_  
He was right of course, as Anguis often was. At first, all he'd wanted was to save that village. It was a rickety, humble little place, lacking the pomp and luxury of the cities, but the men laughed at his jokes and the women baked him pies and the children always smiled at him as if he were a hero.

He hadn't saved anyone; every person the creature took died, but they never stopped being grateful. And a part of him (the one his father's old drunken fist never reached) wanted desperately to show them results.

Even after…he was told… _shown_ the truth. 

Petit shuddered violently, and wrapped his robe more tightly around him as he finished tying the sash. He'd sent squads in with the best equipment the department could afford; young, blue-eyed officers, more boys than men, thinking it'd be enough.

And when they were dragged from the forests a day later, skin turned inside out and eyes plucked, Anguis had patted his shoulder and said _No, it hadn't been enough. But it's not your fault, because you are no match._

He had trouble initially attributing all the deaths on his hands to such a bleak reason, but the more Petit thought about it, the more it made sense and the more it resembled, not an excuse, but something akin to release.

"Et c’est l’autre que je préfère! Il n’a rien dit mais il me plait…!"

His singing grew stronger as he slipped into his bath slippers and headed for the door. What did it matter if the monster was still alive? He had handed all control of the case and his men over to Anguis already, and what the man did with England was hardly his concern. 

He was nothing now—a mere secretary—and despite Anguis's anger and disturbing cruelty, he had never felt so free.

"L’amour! L’amour!" Petit bellowed, swinging the door open, "L’amour est enfant de Bohême!"

There was exactly three seconds to register the sudden darkness of the room, save for the pale moonlight, before he was slammed into the couch.

Petit's squinty eyes bulged open as the wind was knocked clean out of him. He opened his mouth to wheeze and made a choked off noise instead. A white, skeletal hand gripped his neck in a cold vice. 

For a moment, he gasped and wriggled like a fish on land as the splotches of color across his vision faded. 

It was white shadowy light that first came into focus, outlining the long dark shape over him—something slender, though the hand around his throat was like iron, no matter how he scratched at it. And _cold_. Like a corpse's. 

Eyes like two bloodied worlds stared into his, reptilian slits for pupils, and he knew. He _knew_ in that moment that they were not human. He had seen _her_ far too many times to not recognize a monster's eyes. 

A growl rippled through the shadow—part animal, part something else, and Petit heard his death in that sound. 

It didn't stop him from trying to scream, as panic bubbled to the surface and torched his coherency. He thrashed like a maniac, gurgling out pleas and prayers in turn, all in vain, as the icy fingers around him never loosened and those red eyes never blinked. He was to die. The Devil had come to judge him. _OhGodOhGodShitFuck…!_

"M-Master, Master, please wait. Who is this?" A voice floated in from the darkness, light and ethereal—a woman's voice.

She appeared from the shadows like a ghost—pale white, save for the gold of her hair. 

"Hey, I recognize this guy," another voice suddenly said, "He was on the news earlier with Anguis. His secretary, I think." In the next second, another face sprang up only a scant meter to his right. It was a young man this time, with long auburn hair and a black patch over one eye, the other bright and horribly green. But human. 

Petit didn't take the time to be confused or even think. He turned his eyes as much as he could toward the man.

"P-Please, h-help me, I don't want to die…don't want to d-die…please, please." 

The words were a garbled, stuttering mess and partly in French, but he seem to have been understood, because the man gave him a slightly pitying look. 

"He looks like he'd talk either way," he said finally, standing back next to the woman, who was wringing her hands. 

The creature gripping him said nothing, only bent his neck back further with a press of its icy thumb. Petit squealed and flailed, sending desperate pleading looks at the two in the background.

It was by sheer coincidence that the yellow glint caught his eye. It was in between the woman's fingers, a golden glow smattered by the red lights of the rooster's gem-lined crown.

Petit froze mid-scream, so suddenly and completely it was as if time itself had stopped.

For a moment, he forgot the monster baring down at him, forgot his crushed throat and pounding heart. 

For a moment, there was just the woman. Despite her nervous expression, her eyes were entirely vacant and, he noticed for the first time, milk-white and sightless. 

_Mon Dieu…_

The man blinked at him in confusion, following his gaze to the woman. A mechanized hook was attached to his ear, previously hidden by his hair. Deaf. He was deaf.

_…the spell's been split…_

It began clicking together so rapidly that his brain was nearly rattling. 

"Hellsing," he croaked, staring at the cold red eyes above him with a vague sort of horror, "You're Hellsing's monster."

The two in the back stiffened visibly and the mass of black shadows growled again. The grip on his throat tightened a fraction. 

Petit's mind scattered like leaves. 

"Nono, I'm sorry, I'm sorrypleasedon'tMonDieupleaseI'lltellyouI'lltellyouanythingyouwant…!"

But he was simply wrenched upwards, chin pulled back to expose his thick neck. This time, the woman and man were silent.

"Please, please," Petit begged, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, "Please have mercy…"

He got no reply, not a sound, but the icy feel of its breath across his throat. And as it drew closer, he saw the darkness melting away from its face.

It had skin whiter than any snow he'd ever seen and dark wild hair falling in inky wisps across its forehead and cheekbones. Its features were sharp, but without a flaw, as if every contour of its face had been sculpted by a master's hands.

Petit stared, salty tear trails slithering down his temple.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, as if in shock, and not because he felt it needed to be said, but because the words flew out of him of their own accord.

The creature paused. It lifted its head, tilting it at him, eyes almost childishly wide. For a moment, it seemed that he had taken it by surprise and Petit felt a weak glimmer of hope spark inside him.

It was smothered not a second later. The creature smiled, and that too would've been beautiful, if its eyes had not glittered in that way, with no mercy or feeling, nothing but inhuman glee. If its colorless lips had not parted to reveal a great fanged maw. 

It dived at him, having never uttered a word. 

Petit's shriveled throat struggled to even scream. The last sight he saw, before the most horrific pain that'd ever existed shredded through his mind, was a rooster upon the base of a white, white neck.

—-

_Jean Petit, as Alucard learned his name, had incredibly bland blood, bordering on rancid—a taste akin to a corrupted heart. It was horrible, almost worse than the vein-less bags he was forced to digest every day, but Alucard forced himself to ignore it._

_It was the memories he was after anyway and they came in a river, like the blood flowing down his throat. They trickled down his thoughts quietly, and not knowing what he was looking for, he let them come one at a time._

_One had a small boy, freckled and overweight, being kicked around by a man with an empty bottle in hand. Another had the same child sitting alone in a sandbox, shoveling with a cracked blue bucket. Another one still, he was sitting beneath a tree, the broken body of a bird cradled in his palms. He cried in this one._

_But Alucard shifted them all aside impatiently, letting them sink into the roiling darkness to join the rest of his souls._

_Eventually he saw Petit in the forest, patting the shoulders of young uniformed men, before they disappeared into the swamp. The next one had Petit at the morgue, staring at a mutilated corpse, its flesh ripped wide open, all its organs black and half-consumed. Another body was next to it, its youthful blonde curls framing two empty eye sockets._

_What chance could you have had? A voice hissed, rippling through the surface of the memory, but Alucard couldn't make out the owner before the scene vanished._

_The next few images were disjointed and short. A dark room. An aluminum table. Scalpels and hatchets and cobwebs in the corners. A half-charred flag of France hung like a rag off the rim of a dirty sink._

_Then the House rose up through the river of memories—vine-ridden and silent as they had seen it, if not for a splatter of blood across the rotting porch. The golden pin of a rooster lay in the middle as if having bled out._

_You truly don't know what this is, do you? The voice said again, and a dark figure formed. His face was shadowed, but his long hands tapped at a pin fixed neatly to his lapel. It was a rooster, identical to the one at the House._

_…she shall exist as long as it does…tu me comprends…that little pin…it doesn't matter what happens…as long as she dies…it doesn't matter…_

_Tell me, petit commandant. A man stood behind a large oaken desk. He was thin and tall like a skeleton. His eyes were a piercing, eerily familiar green._

_Tell me, petit commandant. What do you know of Japan…?_

—-

Alucard's eyes were wide and faintly stunned when he pulled away. Long strands of blood dripped from the corners of his lips, trickling down his chin and onto the expensive leather. 

Petit's neck and bathrobe were also saturated red as he laid like a stringless puppet beneath him. He was ghost pale, nearly blue and would've looked dead if Alucard hadn't heard the sluggish beat of his heart. 

With a quick whip of his tongue, he sealed the punctured wounds over the jugular, but didn't rise. Instead, he leaned back on his heels, trying to sort the information he'd just absorbed into a sensible order.

Simultaneously, Seras gathered up her courage and crept forward.

"M-Master?" she whispered, head and shoulders shrunken inward as if trying to disappear into her jacket. Alucard glanced at her. 

She opened her mouth to say something, but hesitated and took a step forward instead. Inadvertently, she stepped in a small puddle of blood that had gathered on the floor and screamed, flailing backwards. 

When she found cleaner footing, she hugged herself as if cold, even though her pupils shrunk with hunger. Alucard stared. So meek and frightened by her own nature, he didn't think he'd ever understand.

"Did…did you find out what happened to us?" Seras eventually struggled out.

On his other side, he saw Pip move forward slightly from the corner of his eye. Though the captain looked mildly nauseous, he seemed more interested than anything else. It was a sad day when a human could stomach a scene better than a vampire could.

_Give me the pin,_ he snapped at Seras, without answering her, feeling all of a sudden annoyed. His childe jumped slightly, startled, but hurried to obey. 

Alucard held the crown and feet of the rooster between two fingers. His crimson eyes flashed as he concentrated on the strand of black energy extending out from it, trying to pinpoint where it ended. In any case, it was better to find the other pin first.

The energy looped across the suite, going through walls and floors, and Alucard's eyes narrowed. 

_It's not here._

Seras's eyes were owlish in their confusion. "What's not here?" 

Pip's head whipped suddenly toward the door. "Hey," he whispered, "Did anyone hear that?" He was ignored.

_There's another one._

"You mean the pin? Well, it's a government-issued thing isn't it? Probably loads of them out there."

Alucard looked at her. _No. There are only two. One for her and the other for her children._

Seras's eyebrows rose as Pip turned toward the door, reaching silently for the gun in his jacket.

"What?"

A thin grin split Alucard's face, displaying sharp blood-stained teeth. _She's still alive, police girl. She's not a—_

The door smashed open, pouring in light from the hallway.

"FREEZE!"


	10. Chapter 10

The demand was nearly drowned out by Seras's startled shriek. Pip swallowed a curse and yanked out his handgun, small and dark enough to be hidden from immediate view.

"Come out with your hands up!" one of the dark figures bellowed in an obviously French accent. Channels of hallway light flooded in, illuminating the DST badges upon their shoulders.

"Suspects have been found in the Commandant's suite," the other was saying into his radio, so quickly he was nearly slurring the words, "Two men and a woman. There is still no sign of Martin or Dupont, though we theorize they may have encountered and engaged with the suspects earlier before going missing. There is no sign of Commandant Petit either. We are outnumbered and…"

The man's voice choked off abruptly.

Alucard had turned without a sound, hands slid casually into his pockets. His dark wild hair was plastered to the sides of his cheeks—all pale flesh stained a horrific red. Without his shadow, the prone and blood-soaked body of Petit was seen strewn across the couch behind him.

"C-Commandant found," the man stuttered out in shock, like he didn't understand what he was seeing. His partner scrambled back several steps into the light, as if the darkness had been snapping at his heels.

"Merde," he whispered, eyes impossibly wide, lips stumbling over French and English, "Dieu…what… _fuck_ …"

"R-Requesting…back-up…"

Alucard's lips stretched in a horrible smile, his red eyes owlish and demonic. He took a step forward.

The guns were yanked up so quickly, Pip was surprised they didn't go flying out of their hands. Seras opened her mouth nervously, as if to say something, but quickly changed her mind and snapped it shut again.

"Don't move!" one of them shouted, hands visibly trembling, "We'll shoot!"

The smile widened. Another step.

"I SAID DON'T MOVE!" the man shouted again, voice speedily turning into a shriek.

They were sweating uncontrollably and their wrists were shaking hard enough that the rattle of their guns echoed in the silence. Pip couldn't help pitying them slightly—a feeling that he'd been experiencing more and more since he'd joined Hellsing.

Alucard looked positively elated, lips peeling back to show glinting blood-stained teeth.

A sharp noise emitted from one of the men, a mixture of fright and swear words and he began backing towards the door. His partner grabbed him by the arm.

"What the fuck are you doing?" his partner hissed in French, though not looking any less terrified, "The hotel's filled with civilians. And the Commandant—"

"Does it look like the Commandant needs our fucking help anymore?! God, do you even…look at his teeth…like a fucking monster's, what kind of freak…"

Pip's eyes widened slightly at their words, gaze sliding sideways toward the admittedly gory and quite-deceased appearing Petit, before he realized the whole thing could potentially be misinterpreted as a murder scene.

It said something about his perspectives after half a year with Hellsing, but Pip chose not to think about it for the moment.

Eager to correct misconceptions though, Pip interrupted their terrified babbling argument at each other, "Wait, you guys, no one's dead here, we were just—"

Shrieks and twin shots of gunfire cut him off abruptly. In hindsight, it occurred to Pip that speaking French out of nowhere, when they'd been seeking refuge behind a language barrier, hadn't been the best idea.

Regardless, both Seras and him jumped a clear feet into the air, the former nearly falling on her butt. Alucard's eyes widened slightly in surprise when the bullets whizzed by his face, missing him entirely.

A wet and fleshy sound, along with something heavy smacking against the couch, made a deafening echo behind them.

Silence.

The two men were cadaver white, shivering and gasping like fish on land.

Seras stood frozen, partially in shock, and gaze misdirected toward the inside of the bathroom. Alucard and Pip both turned to stare behind them.

Petit's head had flopped over the headrest and one of his arms had fallen off the couch, grazing the carpet. Two bullet holes were centered neatly upon his heart—thin trails of crimson trickling out from the man's virtually bloodless body.

"…Well," Pip said into the silence, a little awkwardly, "Never mind."

"P-Putain…" one of the men uttered, having lost all grasp of English, "N-nous l'avons tué…"

No one moved except Alucard.

Within a blink, a cold white hand had embedded its nails into the side of each of the men's heads. They looked dazedly upward, but there was no time to process the bloody red eyes staring down at them, before their skulls were smashed together with a merciless crack.

They fell like string-less puppets, guns clattering to the ground.

Alucard dragged their unconscious bodies into the room with one hand, face astoundingly and unfathomably indifferent, and tossed them at the foot of Petit's corpse. He then reached down and yanked the radio free from one of the men's shirts, sending them an expectant look.

Seras vaguely resembled a deer in headlights. Pip just stared at him.

Alucard nudged meaningfully at one of the bodies with his boot.

He stared some more.

The elder vampire's eyebrow twitched slightly, already getting annoyed that he hadn't been immediately understood. Pip had the random thought that he was waiting to be praised, which actually wasn't a particularly insane idea.

Before he could do anything he would seriously regret however, Alucard stormed over to Seras and grabbed her hand.

 _We're leaving,_ Alucard snapped, pulling his fledgling along, _Move. Tell that fool to move too._

Seras stumbled forward, startled, clinging onto Alucard's sleeve to keep herself from face-planting into the blood-stickied ground.

"W-wait, leaving?" she stammered, "What happened?"

_They shot whatever his name was. We need to leave._

Seras's eyes widened, struggling to process the words, "Shot him? How…?"

 _With their guns, how else?_ Alucard replied, growing more irritated by the second with the slow reactions. _Come with me._

"Wait, wait," Seras said, utterly bewildered, "He's dead?!"

_That's usually what happens after a bullet to the heart. Move. Don't make me repeat it if you know what's good for you._

"B-But Master," Seras protested, though she moved hastily after him, calling quickly to Pip to follow, "What were you saying earlier? About that woman being alive?"

Pip stared at them confusedly, "Who's alive?"

 _Later._ Alucard replied in annoyance, walking out into the hallway, There's no time.

The words had barely finished forming before the radio in Alucard's hand blared to life—a flurry of French spewing out and interspersed with crackling static.

Pip's eye widened, and he rushed closer to the radio, practically pressing his ear to the speaker.

"Three teams are coming up this floor," he said, furiously twisting the knobs of his hearing aid, "I think they're putting the hotel on lock-down."

"WHAT?" Seras squawked, before turning incredulously toward Alucard, "Master, you said you wouldn't kill anyone!"

I _didn't kill anyone. It's not my fault most humans are cowardly fools._

"You were the one who shot the television and started all this!"

_If we're going to get unnecessarily technical, it was actually you who started everything. You made me watch the movie._

"Only because you made me watch Cannibal Holocaust!"

"Mignonette, keep it down," Pip muttered, having only heard Seras's very loud side of the conversation, which was odd enough on its own, "They can probably hear you from a whole floor down."

Almost at the same time, the radio crackled again.

_"…sixth floor, the Commandant's suite, suspects currently in hallway…"_

Pip spun around in shock, eye darting back and forth down both directions of the hallway. There was no sign of anyone.

"They know where we are…how did they…?"

Alucard dropped the radio onto the ground.

_Smash._

Pip whirled back around, nearly spinning off his feet in his haste. The elder vampire lifted his boot up and away from the pile of shrapnel and sparking wires that had been the radio.

"It had a GPS tracker," Seras translated for the stunned frenchman, wringing her hands as she finally began to realize the situation they were in, "What should we do? If there are three squads then they're probably coming from both stairs and the elevator."

Alucard made a soft, chuffing sound—throat unable to actually laugh.

_Soldiers are but dim dogs, police girl. You should have no problems escaping them._

"I don't see how," she murmured anxiously, "We're pretty much trapped on this floor."

Alucard breathed out derisively, _By dogs? Hardly. Just figure it out. Don't make me come save you._

Seras lunged for Alucard's wrist as soon as he'd shaken her off his arm, eyes almost disturbingly wide.

"What does that mean?! Where are you going?"

Instead of answering, Alucard nonchalantly dipped into his pocket for the pin.

 _Keep this for now,_ he ordered, dropping it into the hand that was pried off his wrist, _Kill anything that tries to take it._

His fledgling stared, utterly stupefied, but curled her fingers around the jeweled rooster regardless.

"…where are you going, Master?"

Alucard slid his hands back into his pockets, before turning and sauntering toward the wall, _To the washroom._

Seras's eyes nearly popped out of her skull. "HUH? Why?!"

 _Isn't it obvious?_ He asked flippantly, _I can't go see my master with blood on my ascot._

Without waiting or expecting a reply, he vanished into a pool of shadows, leaving a speechless Seras and Pip behind.

\----

"I fail to see how increasing your price should have any relevance at all," Integra snarled, all pretenses of civility long gone, "I could care less about your money."

Several Round Table members immediately began voicing their objections, as per the hellish cycle that had been going on for the past nine hours.

"I don't think you quite understand what exactly it is I'm offering you," Anguis said coolly, ignoring them all, "That house was of great cultural significance and the artifacts that were in there were irreplaceable. Not only did your vampire steal them, but I am now offering you considerable compensation for the usage of that same vampire to help protect innocent civilians as long as you return whatever he took—"

"Stop bringing him into this!" Integra practically roared, "If it was such a culturally important place, why was it in the middle of a swamp with no evident pathways leading to it? What were 'irreplaceable artifacts' doing at such a blatantly insecure location? Your report, which wasn't even conducted appropriately, didn't mention any artifacts at all, most likely because you are pulling this whole story right out of your ars—"

"That's enough, Sir Integra!" Sir Islands thundered, banging his fist hard enough on the table that the people sitting around him jumped.

But before anything more could be said, the doors to the conference room were suddenly thrown open.

Two men hurried in, one the gray-haired chief inspector of Scotland Yard, the other a young and nervous-looking DST agent.

"Pardon me, sirs," the inspector said, appearing frazzled, as he rushed over to whisper something to a surprised Sir Islands while the DST agent did the same to Anguis.

Integra hatefully eyed the man, whose expression was still frozen in a mask of icy congeniality. A day and half a night of sitting through this conference from Hell made it clear that "international relations" had never been on his mind.

Eyes that sharp and empty could never have cared about notions like friendship or cooperation anyway. The way he spoke, cool and precise with a hint of disdainful shallowness, was more akin to a snake in a nest of mice than a diplomat at a conference.

Not to mention the man's repeated insistence of "artifacts" was beginning to gnaw at the last of her temper. Though she practically knew the report by heart, Integra had been unable to convince the council of Anguis's lies.

What's more, the need for such sudden and pointless deception was confounding, especially when it would've been simple to include the facts in. The logical part of Integra thought it was just an attempt to hide incompetence, pinning the blame on an inhuman being like Alucard would avoid offending anyone important. Though the more suspicious side kept wondering if there was more to that decrepit house than had been revealed.

Of course, she also had no way of knowing Alucard _hadn't_ taken anything either.

"I'll kill him," Integra whispered darkly, "I'll absolutely kill him…"

"Pardon, ma'am?" Walter asked in alarm, from where he stood behind her chair.

Before she could reply however, Sir Islands suddenly stood up, his chair scraping sharply against the marble floor.

"If no one has any objections, we will commence a brief recess," he said curtly, and despite considerable vocal objections, he walked swiftly out of the room with the chief inspector at his heels.

Anguis remained in his seat, rapidly conversing in French with the anxious DST agent.

Several members immediately began complaining about the preciousness of their time and sent resentful glances at Integra, who had to fight the urge to roll her eyes in disgust.

Having zero desire to wait in the room with the rest of them, she rose as well, smiling faintly at only a nervous-looking Sir Penwood, before walking out with Walter in tow.

"Your thoughts, Walter?" she asked, leaning against the hallway wall.

"Something valuable must have been there," the butler offered shortly, hands still folded neatly behind his back, "I believe we're currently being scrutinized."

Integra nodded, "Why do you think they asked the Queen to send us on that mission then?"

"It can't be ascertained without more information, but I can hazard a guess that their vampire problem was quite out of control."

Integra snorted bitterly, "I suppose that much makes sense. Look at this goddamn mess. At least she had the courtesy to die."

Walter's mouth tightened slightly, "I actually think we shouldn't be too certain of that."

Integra's eyebrows shot skywards. "What do you mean?"

"If she had incapacitated them by magic, then the effects should have ended the moment of her death. Even if the curse lingered, it would have gotten considerably weaker. At the very least, Alucard should have overpowered it."

"It could be because of the seals," Integra replied, remembering the roosters, "They work as a conduit, don't they? So a certain amount of magic can be stored in them, despite what happens to the original caster."

Walter didn't look convinced.

"Perhaps, but there are many different types of seals. Some are as you said, a kind of permanent storage unit, and others require a link back to the caster, such as Hellsing's own curse seals. Either way, I feel there is a high possibility she's still alive."

Integra nodded again, feeling slightly unnerved by the notion. The thought that the enemy had been labeled a Category C was almost hilarious now. "What did you find out about the roosters?"

"As far as alchemy and witchcraft are concerned, they seemed to have been mostly used as ingredients. None of the archives I've searched through have indicated it held any particular importance after that."

"What were the dates?"

"Mid-17th century to the early-1800s."

"So it's something before the predominance of witchcraft," Integra sighed tiredly, hands itching for a cigar, "Do you think Alucard would know anything?"

Walter opened his mouth to answer, when he caught something dark and shivering out of the corner of his eye. It was a swirling vortex of black and red—an unnatural shadow compared to the faint silhouettes made from the hallway lights.

He smiled wryly, "I believe you can ask him that yourself, my lady."

Integra arched a puzzled eyebrow, before turning to look over her shoulder. She was just in time to catch Alucard's head and torso forming out of the darkness.

"Alucard?!" she nearly screamed, before forcing her voice into a hiss.

A cheery bow and a toothy grin flashed back at her, which usually heralded the coming of some grievous financial disaster.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" Integra demanded incredulously, "You're forbidden from leaving grounds."

Alucard's smile simply widened.

"My guess is he had Miss Victoria and Captain Bernadette bring him here," Walter supplied, before she could burst a vein, earning an annoyed scowl from Alucard for spoiling his fun.

"Oh, did they?" Integra said, voice low, "Well, I'll need to have a talk with both of them later. But since you're already here, Alucard…"

She lunged for the vampire without finishing her sentence, startling both men, while catching Alucard by the collar and wrenching him down to eye-level.

"Did you steal anything from that castle in France?" she growled, cutting straight to the point, "Tell me NOW. I am currently going through Hell defending your undead arse against the council, so you will give me the truth. Did you steal anything?"

Alucard blinked owlishly at her. He tilted his head in question.

"You're being accused of thievery, Alucard," Walter explained after regaining his composure, "The French are saying there were many valuable artifacts at the site that went missing after the mission."

Alucare just stared at them. The genuine confusion in his eyes was enough for Integra to deflate and release him.

"God help you if you're lying," she said, though it was more exasperated resignation than threat, "What are you doing here? I'm in the middle of a meeting."

Alucard's expression remained puzzled. He opened his mouth, lips forming into obvious words, though nothing came out but a weak sigh of air. Brow furrowing in annoyance, he then reached for Integra's hand, before realizing he could only telepathically communicate with Seras at the moment.

"Calm down," Integra said eventually, as he was beginning to look frustrated, "You can just write it down."

"Shall I go fetch a notepad?" Walter offered, already turning back toward the conference room.

Integra hesitated. "…No. I have one."

Stiffly, she produced a small white notebook and pen from her pocket and shoved them in front of the vampire's face.

"Here. I was going to take notes at the meeting."

Alucard blinked at the items. Integra stared holes into one of the buttons of his trench coat, practically feeling Walter's smile beaming into the side of her face.

"As I recall, your intention for this meeting was to insult and depart, Sir Integra," Walter said, a teasing edge to his voice that urged the blood to Integra's cheeks.

"Yes, well, I changed my mind in the car," she replied snippily, and Walter didn't bother addressing the point that she had had the notebook and pen before she'd gotten in the car.

Alucard just gazed curiously at Integra's pocket, as if he was wondering if she had a blood bag in there as well—all emotional subtext flying clear over his head.

"Are you going to take it?" Integra snapped, voice slightly higher than normal, prompting the vampire to accept the items and flip the notebook open.

 _What artifacts?_ He wrote simply in neat, slanted script.

An angry sigh rushed pass Integra's lips and she pinched the bridge of her nose. "It's nothing. Just a load of rubbish Anguis made up."

"But they were likely keeping something there that went missing," Walter added, "The natural course of thought would be that one of our agents stole it. You're not human and have no rights, so any flimsy motive could be pinned on you."

"Not to mention most of the council has all but received French citizenship," Integra muttered darkly, "Selfish geezers. This could actually become a political headache if it's pressed enough."

Alucard didn't look even remotely perturbed. She had half a mind to attribute it to his complete incomprehension of human psychology, when he scrawled something down in the notebook.

_How did they notice anything was missing?_

"They searched the place this morning. The house is apparently a "beloved cultural symbol" or some other shite, so there's a list of minor damages to the porch and walls that I need to deal with too…"

Integra paused, her slender eyebrows arching at Alucard, who was wearing his monster's grin again—crimson eyes glinting with terrible amusement. The pen moved.

_The house was burned to the ground._

Both Integra and Walter stared incredulously at the notebook page. The former was the first to recover.

"THOSE FUCKING LIARS!" she screeched, rapidly seeing red.

"Ma'am, please calm yourself," Walter whispered, glancing furtively at the closed conference doors further down the hall. Alucard just continued smiling and pulled his arm back to scribble down more, holding it out for Walter to read this time.

_I commend you, Angel, you were correct. That house was indeed protecting a few things._

The butler's eyes narrowed, "Alucard, you were not so foolish as to actually take something, were you?"

The vampire rolled his eyes, looking mildly offended.

_That will be the least of your problems for quite some time._

"What do you mean?"

A chilling glee alighted upon Alucard's pale face as his smile widened. _France has more filthy secrets than Hellsing could ever hope to. And all of this, right now, is but the surface of an ocean._

"Are you going to continue to be cryptic or actually say something useful?" Integra snapped, feeling incredibly frustrated and slightly unnerved by Alucard's expression. She'd only seen him that eager when he was fighting Alexander Anderson, or something else at his ridiculous level.

 _They're looking for a talisman,_ Alucard wrote, _It's shaped like a rooster and was being passed off as an official government pin._

"Again with the roosters," Integra muttered, amazed, "Were they worshipped or something back in the Middle Ages?"

_It was the image on the stern._

"What?"

Alucard readied his pen, hand nearly blurring from the speed he was writing at.

_In the 1700s, a ship secretly drifted into France from Japan. The passengers had been Buddhists fleeing persecution. Of the three hundred that made the journey, only two survived, and the corpses were desiccated and mutilated when they were pulled off the ship. The two survivors had gone insane, babbling about a monster that had snuck on board, and the French government decided to silence the whole affair._

Integra nodded, the setup sounding all too familiar.

"She's an old one then." As if there weren't enough problems at the moment.

Alucard just grinned strangely and continued writing.

_People began disappearing shortly afterwards and rumors circulated about a woman living in the swamp that murdered and consumed people, plucking their eyes out for trophies. The villagers fled in droves and the old castle she took over was named the Witch House. The king issued a special order for the death of the monster and the task was headed by the Anguis family. After three days, they announced their success and claimed her body had disappeared into a cloud of black smoke. Any and all incidents near that swamp have been stripped from record since. However, there's a trail of complaints and demands for government investigation that dates back three hundred years. The first response ever made was a few months ago, when the murders finally began drawing media attention._

Integra and Walter stared at the page for a long time. The silence grew thick and cool.

"I believe a cautious approach would be wise for now," Walter said eventually, giving Integra a serious, careful look, "I doubt they lied to spare us the gory details."

"Do you take me for a fool, Walter?" Integra lashed out, more angrily than she meant to be, "I might as well not even know anything with the amount of leeway I have right now."

Walter didn't reply. Too upset to feel guilty at the moment, Integra ran her fingers haggardly through her hair, cursing herself to high heaven for forgetting her cigars.

She wasn't even sure she had processed the full magnitude of the situation yet, but it was already beginning to make her weak at the knees. And her mind had flown off in eight different directions, drowning her brain with disastrous scenarios. She could see now why her father had never concerned himself with vampire problems in other countries, as the lack of knowledge left her floundering, with no idea how to proceed.

"In any case, the main priority hasn't changed," she said, looking at Alucard, "We need to figure out how to fix the three of you. Since it's clear the French know more about this woman than they've let on, we'll focus on getting whatever information we can."

"For that they would have to admit to three centuries-worth of conspiracy," Walter reminded, unfazed about being snapped at earlier, "And we, as a nation, would be accusing them, which is going to have consequences regardless of right or wrong."

Alucard suddenly flipped to a clean page, scribbling something down with such haste it almost looked important, before he turned the notebook back around to them.

_Do you think there will be another war? The last one was too short._

"Can you be concerned with something other than your insatiable blood-lust for just once?" Integra snapped incredulously, "You are mute. You literally have no voice anymore. Your fledgling is blind. And all you're thinking about is having another war?!"

Alucard shrugged, smiling gleefully.

_I can't help that, Master. It's been decades since I've had a decent opponent. I'm bored and I don't understand why this situation disturbs both of you so much anyway._

Integra sighed, weary from the core of her soul.

"I don't expect you to," she said, letting the issue go, "Just don't get too worked up. She may not even be alive anymore. The spell could always be using a conduit."

Alucard didn't bother to write anything and simply shook his head.

"How?" Integra immediately demanded, while Walter looked a bit pleased with himself, "You said you blew off her head and the only vampire in existence that can survive that is you."

_I did. Alucard looked giddy enough now to start bouncing on the balls of his feet._ _But I haven't told you the best parts._

"Well don't keep us in suspense," Integra scowled, growing more annoyed by the second with her servant's weird behavior, "You really shouldn't get so excited over an ordinary vampire—"

She was interrupted by the notebook being suddenly thrust in front of her face, the paper practically touching her nose. A single sentence was written neatly at the top of the page.

_She's not a vampire._

Integra stared blankly. Walter's eyebrows rose to the zenith of his forehead.

A voice behind them suddenly spoke.

"Ah, and who is this, mademoiselle?"

\----

She could smell the musky scent of cologne already. Seras wrinkled her nose in disgust and tugged on Pip's hand, which was wrapped tightly around hers.

"They're a floor down," she said softly, "The smell's getting stronger."

Pip nodded, still a little embarrassed that France's top security agents were wearing cologne in the first place.

"…aren't they on assignment?" he muttered, "This is why I don't understand France."

Seras smacked him lightly on the shoulder.

"You should just be grateful they're wearing it, so we know where they are. Do you see anyone or not?"

Pip edged carefully around the corner they were hiding around and deflated slightly in relief when he saw nothing but an empty corridor. The emergency staircase door stared forebodingly back at him from the end of the hall, ready to explode open with DST agents at any moment.

"Nothing yet?" Seras said, having heard Pip sigh. She got to her feet deftly and pressed the side of her face against the wall. The sound of wing-tipped shoes against concrete thundered in her ears.

"They're climbing the last two flights. The ones in the elevator and the main staircase are probably already searching the other side of this floor. Do you have a plan?"

Pip nodded again, before finally remembering Seras couldn't see it.

"Oui. Once those guys start up the final flight, we'll get in front of the door. When it opens, we'll tackle our way through and then run like hell."

"…"

"…"

"…That's it?"

"…We can scream a little too?"

Seras smacked him again, harder than before.

"What kind of plan is that? You'll get shot, you idiot!"

"Ow! Well what do you want to do then?" Pip hissed back, rubbing his shoulder, "I'm depending on a tiny piece of plastic hanging off my ear right now. And you pretty much can't move on your own. Do you know how fucked we'd be if we got separated?"

Seras chewed her lip in frustration, knowing he was right. It wasn't so much she couldn't move without someone leading—a general idea of the area could be mapped out just based on sound and scent—but that she would have no idea where Pip would be if they got separated.

For all his strength and bravado, he was still human in the end. And though she'd sooner die again than admit it, the fact worried her.

There was no time to plan any further however, when the stairs door slammed open. The sound of footsteps shifting across the carpet echoed the halls and Seras had just enough time to register the metallic sound of guns being clenched between hands, before Pip wrenched her backwards.

He dragged her a few meters soundlessly, while she struggled to regain her footing. It wasn't until the starchy scent of linen hit her nose that she realized he'd pulled her into a suite.

"Well, this isn't good," he muttered belatedly, shutting the door carefully before releasing her hand, "I told you we should've just rushed them."

"If you want to end up as swiss cheese then by all means," Seras snapped, groping her way to the wall. The sounds of footsteps, guns and whispered French tumbled together outside.

Feeling like a fight wasn't worth it, Pip crouched down next to her sullenly. For a moment, the darkness around them was still and silent.

In retrospect, she isn't sure what compelled her to reach into her pocket at that point. Maybe it was by accident or by habit, but her fingers grazed lightly over the jeweled crown of the pin.

A sharp green thread exploded out of the darkness of her vision. It was an icy, putrid feeling—a sensation of something so terribly old her mind could not begin to comprehend it.

Seras rocketed to her feet, every hair on standing on end, and getting a surprised look from Pip.

"Mignonette?" he questioned, scrambling up as well.

Seras didn't answer, gaping blankly at the ceiling, where the thread of energy vanished through.

"What's above this floor?"

Pip stared up at the ceiling as well, trying to see what exactly had caught her interest.

"We're on the sixth floor, so probably the penthouse. Why?"

Seras just grabbed his wrist and started pulling him towards the door.

"We've got to get up there."

"Wha—Why?" Pip stammered, planting his feet firmly on the ground to keep from being dragged, "What are you doing?"

"It's what Master was talking about earlier," Seras said impatiently, still staring at the thread, as it flickered and shimmered an icy green. It was so bright and strange after hours of pitch darkness, she almost thought she was imagining it.

"Yeah, because I heard everything the mute guy said!" Pip snapped sarcastically, beyond bewildered, "Why are we going to the pent—"

"Because the second one is there!" Seras practically screamed, yanking him along, "The second pin is on the penthouse floor!"


	11. Chapter 11

Integra's first instinct was to snap the notebook shut, slamming it down on Alucard's fingers in the process. Her second instinct was to shove said startled vampire behind her and Walter, as if that could somehow erase him from sight. Her third was to curse very colorfully, but she held this one back. Barely.

"It's not polite to eavesdrop, Lord Anguis."

"My apologies," he said coolly, clasping his hands behind his back, as he began walking leisurely toward them, "I had merely come out for a breath of air when I heard a commotion in this direction." 

Anguis smiled, a wide and disfiguring slash across his face, full of serpentine glee, "Imagine my surprise when I saw who it was."

Integra didn't bother replying, though her lips pursed into a white line.

It only seemed to make his smile wider however, as he stopped a meter away from them. There he leaned in almost eagerly, extending his neck to look over Integra and Walter's heads and regard Alucard's glowing eyes and pointed teeth. 

"I take it this is your vampire then?" he said, nodding in thorough satisfaction, as if he were examining an expensive piece of art, "What a beautiful creature." 

Alucard just stared at him, with the unimpressed, indifferent gaze he gave most living things. 

The same uncaring nonchalance was not afforded to Integra, whose eyes narrowed. It wasn't the first time she had seen someone respond to her vampire without fear, though the numbers were few and far between. Alucard, she had come to understand, tended to reach into the bones, for that ancient, primal terror that was forever there. 

Those who weren't afraid of him were always naïve, fascinated and arrogant—enamored with humanity's current place on the food chain, as if its past place could ever be forgotten. They were all set right eventually. Painfully.

But she knew Anguis was not a fool. He looked at Alucard with the experienced ease of a hunter, like he was familiar with the meaning of those eyes and those teeth. Integra's mind flashed briefly back to the opened notebook and Alucard's hasty script scrawled across the page.

 _Three hundred years,_ it had said, _Stripped from the record._

The task headed by the Anguis family.

It was clear Alucard had had more to say, especially after dramatically dragging out that last bit (which was a headache enough that she couldn't think about it for the moment), and it was a risky move to make accusations without understanding the whole situation. 

Integra chewed lightly on the inside of her lip, unsure of how to proceed. While one side of her warned of caution and patience, the other demanded for answers, with no reason other than these were her agents. It didn't matter how much knowledge Anguis had on the curse or how dangerous it could make him.

All that mattered was that Seras was blind and Pip was deaf. That she may never hear Alucard's crazed laughter in her office again. Even if something like that shouldn't bother her.

 _But it does,_ a girl's voice whispered in her head, _It does._

Integra clenched her fists in frustration. The entire corridor would've languished into thick silence, if Walter had not suddenly spoken. 

"This must not be your first time seeing a vampire, my lord," he commented, coolly slicing through the tension, "No one has ever responded to him as calmly as you have." 

Anguis's eyes slid fractionally, as if he found it distasteful the butler was even addressing him. 

"Not at all, monsieur," he replied after a full minute, returning his gaze back to Alucard, "But I have seem them many times in books and movies."

Alucard's eyebrows raised abruptly, dangerously; the first sign of irritation beginning to surface on his face. He took a step forward.

Walter clenched Alucard's sleeve without even looking at him, partially blocking the vampire's path with his body. Integra did the same with his other arm and inconspicuously pushed him back, glaring death at him from the corner of her eye when he sent her an annoyed look. 

"It is a grave mistake to presume they are one and the same," she warned out loud, turning an icy stare at Anguis.

The man laughed—the sound cold and grating against the tense air.

"I quite agree. Only fools believe everything they see on television," he continued smiling at Alucard even as he spoke, "But as a frenchman, I can appreciate the beauty of something so deadly and rare. Beauty is the epiphany of this world after all. I ask you, what amounts to us without it?"

"I'm afraid I find that question a bit narrow-minded for my taste," Integra replied with swift disdain, "And if there's nothing pressing, Lord Anguis, then you'll have to excuse us."

Another laugh. Thinner and sharper than the first. 

"I knew I was going to like you, mademoiselle," Anguis said airily, walking closer, "And you did not disappoint."

He didn't stop until he was a mere half a meter away from them. Alucard's lip began curling at the man's proximity and Integra tightened her already-crushing grip on his wrist. If Anguis was aware at all of the growing hostility, he didn't show it.

"For a woman, you are quite dangerous, aren't you? Much like your pet here. Who is, I must say, even more breath-taking up close," he said, sending another brief satisfied glance at Alucard, before suddenly turning to Integra. With such close approximation, his eyes were an unnatural green, a piercing mineral color. Integra pursed her lips into a pale line.

"Pitiless, full of rage and suffering no fools," his eyes flickered, the pupils expanding and spilling into the green-rimmed irises, something like hunger roiled at the barren center.

Anguis smiled with deep unpleasantness. "Even under this mannish drab of yours, on this uncouth _rock_ you call a country, I must admit you are tres belle." 

And before any of them could react, he cupped Integra's cheek in his palm. 

Integra's first thought was that his hand was a clammy, shudder-worthy sensation. Her second was how she was going to break it in seventeen different places.

Her third was an alarmed, jumbled mess as Alucard suddenly yanked free of her grip and lunged at Anguis with a terrible snarl. 

"Shit!" Integra scrambled to catch the end of Alucard's coat, but missed, "Walter!" 

There was a split flash of light, the sound of wires unthreading, and then Alucard snapped his jaws shut a mere centimeter away from Anguis's face. His eyes were shrunken to red pinpricks with rage and his teeth glinted like knives beneath his lips. 

The growls that emitted from him were like a beast's, like a monster on the edge of control, and made Integra hasten to his side.

"Alucard, stop, _stop_ ," she ordered, grabbing his shoulder, while simultaneously forcing her pounding heart to slow. She paused to note, however, the man on the ground before them with some minor satisfaction.

Anguis's legs had given out as soon as Alucard had rushed at him and his face was pale and quivering—all traces of his previous composure and arrogance wiped clean from his face. The malice in his eyes was replaced with genuine fear, though the appraising glint did not quite leave them. 

Alucard did not seem half as satisfied as her about only scaring the life and death out of Anguis. Still growling and snapping like an animal, he strained violently against the wires, keeping them taut enough to dig bloody grooves into his arms. It was amazing Walter could even hold him back, but the elderly butler kept his stance with iron strength, as if he had done this a hundred times before. His face was devoid of expression, even as the wires began cutting into his flesh.

"I said to stop, Alucard," Integra snapped, eyeing Walter's rapidly bloodying gloves, "This is accomplishing nothing. Look at me!"

With great unbridled boldness, she grabbed the sides of Alucard's head and wrenched it to face her, brushing aside his wild hair so she could look him in the eyes. They were surprisingly lucid, if not infuriated, and she didn't need to hear his voice to know what they were saying.

 _He touched you._

"I'll deal with this on my own," she said shortly, releasing him and straightening, "Calm down." 

The wires remained taut for a moment longer. Alucard was looking at her with a mix of surprise and annoyance; he was probably going to sulk about this later, which is just what she needed. Integra fought down a sigh.

"Now," she said, tone clipped, and Alucard obeyed this time. His lips slid back over his teeth, somehow closing over his monstrous fangs, and he unfurled from his predatory crouch and onto his feet again, still looking practically murderous. As soon as Walter retracted the wires tangled around him, his wounds sealed and the blood staining his elbows and forearms evaporated.

Walter was not so lucky. Integra sent him a concerned glance as blood steadily dripped off the end of his gloves. He waved off her worry, however, and she reluctantly turned back to the issue at hand.

"You were fortunate this time," she said, expression immediately darkening as her eyes landed on Anguis, "I advise you not to touch me again, if you value your hand."

Despite looking intimidated, Anguis didn't apologize. He didn't even glance at her, staring intently at Alucard, as if transfixed, with an expression that resembled horror but strangely not quite. Alucard growled softly at him, blood-red eyes swirling with anger, but he still didn't break his gaze. With slow, slightly trembling limbs, he groped his way to his feet. 

"T…That sign," he hissed, pointing a spindly finger at Alucard, "Where did he get that?" 

Integra and Walter's eyes widened at the same time. Alucard's death glare was replaced with a look of puzzlement. His eyes strayed down to his now-bare neck, the place where Anguis was gesturing at, and blinked in surprise at the rooster staring back up at him.

Silence.

Anguis's eyes narrowed visibly. An ugly and suspicious light flickered in them. 

"Where did he get it?" he demanded again.

Walter and Alucard both glanced at Integra, one nervous and the other curious for her response. 

Her face was unnervingly blank, nearly tranquil, and she turned to look out the hotel window instead of answering. Almost idly, she regarded the strings of headlights crawling down the dark roads. Their trails mapped out the intricate entirety of London—a scintillating grid of departments and bridges and candle-lit canals. Big Ben towered in the distance like a sleeping giant, its ghostly clock-face a dimmer twin of the moon.

She thought that somewhere out in London, a woman just like her was looking at the face of Big Ben, admiring its beauty, oblivious to the precipice her country was sitting on, to the ugly encounter about to unfold in a stray hallway of the Langham. 

Integra turned to Anguis.

"At the Witch House."

Anguis's eyebrows twitched violently. "Excusez-moi?"

"The Witch House," she repeated calmly, "That is how you say it in English, is it not?"

Walter stared at her as if she had lost her mind, while Alucard grinned excitedly. Integra ignored them both.

"Were you aware that the target knew magic, Lord Anguis?" she continued, in the same way one would say 'could you pass the butter' or 'want to stop by Tesco,' "Because that's what happened. You failed to tell us this little fact so this is the situation now."

"What are you talking about?" Anguis snapped, almost before she'd finished her sentence, "There was plenty of information given to you about the monster. Do you expect my people to risk their lives to learn every mundane little detail? We cannot know everything—"

"And I would not expect you to," Integra interrupted smoothly, "I never hold other institutions at the same standards of my own. It's less disappointing that way. And your lives were not much at risk to begin with, were they? Seeing as you used the testimonies of traumatized and crippled witnesses for the main base of your reports."

Anguis's lips pursed in a pale line. "They were reliable sources."

Integra slid her hands in her pockets. "I'm glad you think that. Because most of them mentioned how the government had been ignoring requests for investigation long before all the casualties occurred."

"That's complete nonsense," he barked, visibly growing more agitated, "We did no such thing."

Integra remained unperturbed. "It seems we're both having trouble remembering what exactly was in the report. Shall I send someone to fetch it?"

Anguis hesitated. "…Even if some careless comments were made, it does not mean that is the truth. Only a rare few citizens are knowledgeable of what actually happens within our offices. Those witnesses were extremely traumatized and likely looking for someone to blame. They were not in their right minds."

She stared at him. "I thought you said they were reliable sources."

Alucard made a soft sound of amusement, as Anguis's eyes widened. 

"W-Well, to a certain degree they are," he stumbled out, "But only on account of what they said pertaining to the monster."

"Oh?" one of Integra's slender eyebrows raised, "And why should I, the Council, or even Her Majesty believe you on that?"

A slight hint of panic emerged in Anguis's eyes and for a moment, he seemed at a complete loss. Integra pinned him with her gaze, waiting for his answer with merciless patience. He coughed and cleared his throat, hesitating. 

Then his green eyes suddenly flashed and he turned to her. 

"Because…a request for investigation in France requires obtaining permission from all the affected departments. If even one department below us rejects the request then it does not reach us, so it is likely none of them made it to my office," Anguis said, relaxing more as he spoke, "This is expected to happen of course. Any normal person would be reluctant to expend money and men to investigate such an isolated and unimportant site."

Integra was silent. Anguis's lips began loosening into a smug smile. 

"It is unfortunate that you encountered more difficulties than you had expected," he said, tone becoming condescending again, "But we did all we could to receive and assist you. Our goal was the same as your Queen's—to strengthen national relationships. This centuries old animosity between our two countries has always been…quite petty, non? I think th—"

"Unimportant."

Anguis's voice died mid-word. "Pardon?"

"Unimportant," Integra said again, face utterly expressionless, "That's what you said. Unimportant and isolated."

The man's smile faltered slightly, "Well, yes, in a sen—"

"That's interesting," she interrupted nonchalantly, "Obviously not so much of a cultural hotspot as you've been implying all night then. So, what sort of "priceless artifacts" would be at such an _unimportant_ and _isolated _location?"__

__Anguis's smile fell clean off his face. His eyes narrowed into furious slits._ _

__"How did he get that sign?" he hissed, dropping all pretenses._ _

__"Why did you lie to us?" Integra shot back instantly, an angry coldness settling over her features, "What are you hiding?"_ _

__"How dare you. You had better tell me now or—"_ _

__"I know twenty-six different ways to kill you with my bare hands," Integra said softly, "And that is not even counting Alucard, who is only half a meter away from you. The fact that you think you can still _fuck_ with me is both hilarious and tiresome."_ _

__The frenchman said nothing, slowly turning a puce-pale color. Alucard was practically grinning ear to ear and even Walter looked impressed._ _

__BANG._ _

__The doors to the conference room flew open, rattling as they collided with the walls. Integra, Walter and Alucard's heads all swung to the entrance at once, while Anguis nearly jolted out of his skin in surprise._ _

__Standing in the threshold was the young DST agent that had been talking to Anguis earlier. He looked nervous and stressed, with his tie slightly askew and his hair disheveled._ _

__"Mon seigneur!" he called, scurrying over to the man, bowing his head momentarily at Integra and Walter, while rushing right past Alucard without even noticing him._ _

__"We have a problem, monsieur," he said urgently to Anguis, who was still slightly in shock, "There's been some sort of attack within the hotel. Reports are not clear yet, but we have almost ascertained they're—"_ _

__"Terrorists," a flat voice finished behind them._ _

__Sir Islands walked calmly into the hallway, with the Chief Inspector at his side, who looked both embarrassed and horrified. The other members of the council gathered at the threshold, like a group of eavesdropping children._ _

__"There was a call for back-up about seventy-eight minutes ago for suspicious activity on the sixth floor," he relayed, face grim and serious, "Prior to that, a television set in one of the rooms exploded while the guests were watching a film. This was only a few doors down from where the last request call was traced to."_ _

__"Bombers then," Integra said curtly, annoyed with interruption. She glanced at the Chief Inspector, "I advise evacuation."_ _

__The man looked vaguely insulted._ _

__"We began evacuation about twenty minutes ago," he blustered, white mustache twitching, "All of the guests are already out and ATB's arriving shortly. We've managed to sequester them between the sixth floor and the penthouse until then. The two would have to be bloody ghosts to escape."_ _

__Integra's eyebrows raised. "Two? There's only two?"_ _

__"They are not to be underestimated," the young DST agent spoke up, looking earnest in his graveness, "We've lost contact with three of our agents during the early stages of the investigation. It is suspected they had encountered the suspects."_ _

__An ominous pause reigned momentarily._ _

__"Wha-What are we still doing here then?" one of the Council members demanded, "There are _terrorists_ in the hotel only three floors above us?! We should have been the first ones you escorted out you idiot!" A rally of angry, frightened complaints followed._ _

__The Chief Inspector nearly tripped over himself in his bow, murmuring frantic apologies towards the ground._ _

__Integra was more than a little disgusted and Sir Islands looked like he was visibly restraining a sigh._ _

__"Scotland Yard shall escort you all out now. It is with fair certainty that the problem has already been isolated, so there is no need to disgrace ourselves with repulsive behavior," he said, voice growing sharp and snappish at the end._ _

__The other members grew quiet. Sir Islands turned to the Chief Inspector and nodded._ _

__The man scrambled hurriedly over to the council members, waving over two police officers that had been waiting in the conference room. In a panicked and disorganized mess, they herded the men down the corridor towards the main lobby._ _

__The Chief Inspector then sent Integra a questioning glance, to which she shook her head._ _

__"I'm staying."_ _

__The man didn't try to argue, turning to Sir Islands instead, who nodded._ _

__"Please, Lord Anguis," Round Table Leader said, looking at the man, who had been quiet thus far, "Allow us to take you to safety. As a very important guest, I assure you that you will be afforded with the best protection."_ _

__Anguis stared at Sir Islands like he had a malignant disease, before looking at the DST agent without replying._ _

__"They are on the sixth floor, did you say?" he asked sharply, to which the boy hurriedly nodded._ _

__"Most likely, monsieur. A man and a woman based on reports. Please, Signeur Anguis, even with superior manpower, we cannot guarantee the situation will not escalate, you should accompany Monsieur Islands…"_ _

__"A man and a woman?" Integra muttered to Walter, who wore the same stunned expression. A pool of dread began forming in the pit of her stomach. No way…_ _

__"…we dispatched men to both stairwells as well as the elevator, and switched to code, because we're fairly certain one of them can speak French, but still haven't found hide nor hair. It is insane, monsieur, inhuman."_ _

__"I could care less about how you catch them!" Anguis barked, eyes flashing, "Just do it. Keep them on the sixth floor. And where the hell is Commandant Petit…?" He ranted on, but the rest was a buzz of nonsense to Integra's ears._ _

__" _AAAluuucaaard…_ " she whispered ominously, whipping around at the same time as Walter._ _

__Needless to say, he had vanished into thin air a while ago. In his place was the notebook, lying open, with a single sentence written in the middle of the page._ _

___See you at the estate._ _ _

__—-_ _

__It was said that sometimes, in the midst of intense anticipation and heightened alertness, the mind was honed to such a point and state of concentration that it actually began to putter out and wander._ _

__In Seras's case, she was busy despairing over the present misery that was her life._ _

__"There's no way in Hell that's a snake, is there?" Pip murmured unhelpfully from in front._ _

__She glared unknowingly at his rear and lightly smacked his calf. "There are no bloody snakes in the bloody ducts! Keep moving!"_ _

__"Ok, ok! Ah mon Dieu, will you relax? I don't even know where the fuck we're going."_ _

__The draculina rolled her white eyes, biting back a retort about what cause there was to relax then._ _

__It'd been half an hour since her master had essentially abandoned them and in that time, she had become fairly certain of two things._ _

__One was that Sir Integra was going to eviscerate all three of them when she inevitably found out. And the second was that making her master watch Twilight was probably one of the biggest mistakes she's ever made._ _

__As an added bonus, she was pretty sure she'd gone mad for what they were currently trying to pull._ _

__"This tunnel leads to the elevator shaft. The air currents sound slower further out."_ _

__"I'm going as fast as I can," Pip grumbled, earning a strange look from Seras. He rubbed at his ear, which was beginning to slightly ache._ _

__"Why are we going to the penthouse again instead of hauling arse out of here?"_ _

__"I told you, the second pin is up there," she replied, swiping a cobweb out of her hair with disgust._ _

__"Right, well, why should we care about that then?"_ _

__"I don't know," she snapped, "But Master thought it was important so we need to get it."_ _

__Pip had no rebuttal for that, so he simply shrugged and struggled forward on his elbows, a difficult task considering how narrow the passageway was. For such a lavish hotel, the ducts hadn't seemed to have been cleaned for a good century. Cockroaches and cobwebs littered their path and there was an alarming unidentifiable slime that clung to the walls. The air was sticky and hot, carrying the faint scent of urine._ _

__"God, there's such a thing as a fucking inspection," he muttered, after brushing dead cockroaches out of their path for the sixth time._ _

__"You should write a letter," Seras said flatly, not nearly as bothered by her surroundings. There were benefits to being blind at times too after all._ _

__Pip turned back to look at her strangely and fiddled with the knobs of his hearing aid. "Quoi?"_ _

__"I said you should write a letter."_ _

__There was a pause._ _

__"Huh," he mused, prompting his head with an elbow, "Maybe I should. How can a five-star hotel have air ducts filled with cockroaches and stinking of the trenches?"_ _

__"Because they haven't had inspection?"_ _

__"There's an underground lab," Pip declared, striking his fist against his open palm dramatically, "Must be. The stench is from the experiments. It's a fucking conspiracy."_ _

__Seras made an unladylike snort, "I'm sure they'll look forward to your drunken ravings."_ _

__They shared a quiet laugh and continued in silence. It was slow going as every few minutes they needed to stop and wait out the thundering footsteps of DST agents hurrying below them._ _

__Seras sweated slightly at the sounds and she assumed Pip must've half lost his mind from the fear, since she had to stop him twice from moving forward while agents were right beneath them. A few of them whispered to each other in French, but he was also too busy adjusting his hearing aid to catch it._ _

__Eventually, to Seras's utter relief, the stale air in the vents grew fainter and the loud whirring of the elevator generator could be heard. The passageway had also grown wide enough that she could shimmy her way up next to Pip._ _

__"We're here, Captain," she said, crawling forward, though both were too distracted to realize their shoulders were touching._ _

__Pip didn't reply, studying the long fat black cables pulling the elevator boxes up and down._ _

__"I'll go first," he said suddenly._ _

__Seras blinked. "What?"_ _

__But she was already talking to empty air. Pip leapt from the ledge with a burst of energy, crossing the eight meter gap and landing on the passing elevator box with a deft somersault._ _

__"Captain?" Seras whispered, slightly panicked as she groped the empty space next to her, "Pip?"_ _

__"Mignonette," Pip called from where the elevator had stopped on the first floor, "Get ready, it's coming back up."_ _

__"What?! Where are you?" She leaned half her body out of the duct, but obviously saw nothing but darkness._ _

__"Get ready!"_ _

__"Get ready for _what_?"_ _

__The generator roared as the cables starting lifting the elevator back up the shaft. It was about a quarter of a way to the duct opening when Pip called, "Okay, jump now!"_ _

__Seras blinked dumbly. "Jump?"_ _

__Pip's eye bulged slightly as the box began moving rapidly toward the ledge. "What are you doing?! Jump!"_ _

__"Where am I suppose to be jumping to?!" Seras shrieked back at him._ _

__"JUMP!"_ _

__"Oh, sod it," she muttered to herself, half-hysterically. With her undead heart in her throat, she took a wild leap. For an instant, there was nothing but the rush of wind pass her face, an expanse of darkness before her, and Seras bit her tongue to keep herself from screaming._ _

__Then she heard Pip curse. A pair of warm hands flew out of nowhere and grabbed her wrist, halting her rapid descent. She gasped in shock at the sudden stop, and her body accidentally banged against the side of the box._ _

__"I said jump not swan-dive," Pip snapped, keeping hold of her arm with gritted teeth._ _

__"Well excuse me for being blind!" Seras sniped right back, gripping the edge of the box to help pull herself up. As soon as she had found her footing, she crossed her arms and glared vaguely at his direction. "It didn't help that you were ignoring me, you know. Why didn't you answer?"_ _

__Pip blinked. "Answer what?"_ _

__Seras's blind eyes widened incredulously, "Answer wha—like why I was falling to my death down an elevator shaft, you bloody jerk!"_ _

__Silence._ _

__"Captain?" Seras prodded._ _

__Pip didn't reply immediately and when he did, his voice was hesitant._ _

__"…Sorry, mignonette, I didn't catch that. Hold on, okay? I need to adjust this."_ _

__Seras's eyes widened. She hadn't been actively taking notice, but she was rather sure this was already Pip's fifth time adjusting his hearing aid._ _

__"Are you okay, Captain?" she questioned carefully, "How can it not pick up what I'm saying when I'm standing less than thirty centimeters away?"_ _

__"Huh? What?"_ _

__"I said are you okay?"_ _

__Pip tinkered with the device for a second longer, wincing slightly at the strange stinging sensation in his ear._ _

__"Yeah, I'm fine. This piece of crap's just hard to use. Needs adjusting every five seconds."_ _

__"But you didn't need to do that a few hours ago," Seras pointed out softly._ _

__Pip stopped to ponder that for a moment. "Huh. Maybe it's based on the place then."_ _

__"Is that how hearing aids work?" she asked, feeling a tad anxious._ _

__"I don't know. I didn't really read the manual," Pip admitted and turned toward the metal ladder, wincing again as he rubbed his ear, "The Doc must've given me the wrong size or something though, it feels like it's cutting into my skin."_ _

__Seras looked alarmed. "Maybe you should take it out then," she advised in concern._ _

__Pip nearly snorted and waved his hand at her. "It's fine, I can handle way worse than this."_ _

__Seras still looked unsure, even as Pip took her hand and started leading her toward the ladder. "But—"_ _

__"I said it's _fine_ , mignonette. I can hear you now, can't I?" _ _

__It was true enough. Seras bit her lip, accidentally puncturing it with her fang. And as blood flooded her mouth, she reluctantly let him pull her along._ _


	12. Chapter 12

"Holy _fuck_ ," Pip muttered, the slightest trace of delirium in his tone, "So this is where the taxes go."

"You don't pay taxes, Captain," Seras was quick to point out, landing noiselessly on the Calamander wooded floor. Had she been able to take in the glass tables and crystalline vases and satin-laced curtains however, there would've been an easy point of agreement.

Despite the darkness, the room was illuminated by an enormous skyline window, which wrapped around the entire length of the front wall. A couple of leather sofas and velvet cushions were arranged tastefully in front of it, and the yellow and red lights of the city below flickered against their snowy surfaces. A blinking pattern of other people's lives.

Above, in the black expanse of night that hung over London, a huge and lonely moon gazed in upon them with white melancholy eyes.

Pip wondered what it meant if all he could really think about was how amazing it would be to get sloshed up here.

"It should be around somewhere," Seras murmured, obliviously brushing past him.

She bent over, searching around one of the sofas with great determination. The furrows of her brows deepened increasingly as she flung aside pillows and duvets, yanking out one of the seat cushions with a single impatient hand. Her fingers skittered and scraped across the framework like an albino spider.

Pip, completely unhelpful, stood to the side, too busy with the generous eyeful she was giving him to do much of anything.

"…What in God's name…?" she muttered beneath her breath, narrowing her eyes at the upturned sofa as if she actually saw it. After a moment, she straightened and backed up a step in dissatisfaction.

Shoulders slumping at the end of his viewing, Pip asked rather unenthusiastically, "What does it look like?"

"The same as the first one," Seras said, slipping the pin out to show it to him, the studded rubies and emeralds glimmering brightly. Pip's lips pulled slightly downwards. Damning evidence of government conspiracy aside, he had yet to be clued in on what exactly made the thing so important that they were risking their partially crippled asses for it.

"Didn't you say you knew where it was?"

"Well, I know its in here," she replied, thin eyebrows furrowing as she rubbed the rooster's crown with her thumb, "It's hard to describe. I was following a thread of energy linking the two pins together, but it's pointing over here, around this sofa."

"So look near the sofa."

"And there," Seras said flatly, pointing to the curtains, "And there." The coffee table.

Her head turned upwards. "And it's also made a loop through the ceiling."

Pip stared.

"Wonderful," he sighed, "So I suppose we're just going to be looking randomly then."

Seras didn't answer, already hurrying over to the immaculate stain-less steel kitchen. Pip sighed again, aimlessly surveying the room for a moment before deciding upon a stack of braided baskets sitting neatly near the bathroom.

Grabbing the top one, he pulled open the lid, tossing out crisp white towels and packaged soaps, wincing as throbbing pain shot through his temple. His right ear, for whatever reason, hadn't stopped hurting since their unpleasant air duct voyage, and had "settled" into a piercing, incessant ache.

Stubbornly, Pip lifted the lid of the second basket, ignoring the pain as best he could, while he sifted through the contents and felt the bottom of the container for anything wedged between its braids. He upended the next three in a similar fashion, finding nothing.

Before he could search the last one however, a stab of pain streaked brutally across the back of his skull. Pip's teeth clenched violently, hand dropping the basket to fly around his ear. The cartilage was warm and slightly wet and in no way normal.

Pip cursed viciously as the stars faded from his eye, his fingers twitching around the hook of the hearing aid, which was apparently trying to dig permanent grooves into his flesh. For all the time the doctor had spent poking and prodding his ears, he would think he'd have ordered something of at least the right goddamn size...though actually, did hearing aids even come in sizes? Or maybe it was something he needed to adjust on his own though there were only two buttons on the stupid thing, goddamnit he should've looked through the manual a little better, maybe studied the 'when your hearing aid starts trying to drive a nail through your ear canal' section in more arrest detail—

Something small and cold landed on his shoulder.

Pip's heart rocketed into his throat, shattering his thoughts and (thankfully) strangling his yelp. His body made a mindless, abortive attempt to twist around, and he would've tripped over his own legs if not for the pale hand that snagged his sleeve and kept him upright.

Seras's white, gold-framed face came into view, her eyes just as startled and wide as his. She opened her mouth and Pip stared at her for a beat, before every drop of color leeched from his face.

Her thin, white lips creased and moved, but not a sound came out.

Merde, a voice murmured in his head. The memory of Seras's hand on his shin flashed before him, how it had forced him into several frustrating stops inside the air ducts, before he'd seen the brisk movements of black-clad legs through the grille. Footsteps and clattering guns that he had not heard.

Dread began pooling thick and heavy in his gut as he reached again for the adjusting knob of the hearing aid—spikes of agony shooting across his temple each time he turned it. Seras's eyebrows furrowed, the surprise fading away into concern. She spoke again. He heard nothing.

Pip wrenched the knob, ignoring the pulsing swell of pain the motion brought. This time, a faint voice rode in with it. The sounds of the world blurred into a vague focus and Pip would've slumped in relief if it hadn't still felt like thick cloth was stuffed deep into his ears.

Seras's lips kept moving—more rapidly, demanding. The worry was blatant on her face now as her hand reached for him. Pip still couldn't hear enough to understand a word, but he grabbed it, giving her no time to be startled by the suddenness before he dragged them both to their feet.

"Mignonette," he said, jaw strained, his own voice nothing but a blur of sounds, "I think…we might have to go now."

A flitter of confusion, surprise and increasingly mounting concern crossed her face. Her lips parted again, but snapped shut suddenly before they could form into words.

Pip blinked in surprise when Seras suddenly whirled toward the door, almost smacking him in the nose with her hair. Her whole frame stiffened into a board. The slight fingers over his tightened vice-like around him.

And all of a sudden, it was her dragging him towards the exit instead. Pip stumbled, nearly tripping over himself again, a squawk of protest on the tip of his tongue.

Inadvertently, he caught sight of the door and the thought vanished from his mind. Seras stopped abruptly a second later and Pip ran straight into her back. Neither of them noticed.

The doorknob was jiggling.

They stood there, almost dumbly, as it clicked open.

"...and I said there's nothing to be done up here, the action's all downsta..." the agent's voice died mid-word.

For a long beat, there was nothing but stupefying silence. Nobody moved, staring at each other like deer caught in headlights.

Then Seras's hand found the sofa and sent it hurling toward the doorway.

\---

Alucard glided through the walls at an unhurried pace, avoiding human detection with bored ease. Having only a screaming tirade waiting for him at home, he wasn't particularly feeling the rush, working his way slowly across the sixth floor corridors, watching with mild fascination and amusement as the humans positioned themselves and re-checked their guns and whispered into their silly little radios.

It was doubtful any of these poor fools knew what kind of man they were working for ( _repulsive, filthy, daring to touch what was HIS…_ ). Even at the cusp of death, that puny, whimpering commandant had had no thoughts of Anguis running in his blood beyond fearful awe and admiration.

Mortals, it seemed, would never learn. Forever cursed to be led, to be strung along on puppet strings by the fingers of cruel, wicked souls. Like it was with Hitler, like Anguis...

_Like you,_ an old voice whispered, and the glimmer of armor flashed before him. The marching beats of a thousand horses and men. A king stood above them, sword raised by a silver gauntlet, looking guiltlessly into the faces he was sending off to die. He roared, though no sound was heard.

Alucard scowled faintly, dispersing the memory with irritation. If there was ever a time for that nonsense, it wasn't now.

Good mood dampened, he slid silently past another three men at the corner and was about to head down the next hallway, when the scratch and fizzle of static from their radios gave him pause. A voice rose from it—frazzled and frustrated and distinctly English.

A dark, slender eyebrow arched. So, Scotland Yard was working with the French now. How quaint. Even Alucard saw the impossibility of burying this incident now. He supposed a few silver-laced bullets would be waiting for him after all.

One of the men unclipped the radio from his belt, quietly exchanging details through the mouthpiece, mostly information along the lines of 'no sign on the fourth, fifth or sixth floors,' 'nothing in the stairways,' 'What the Devil is going on?'

The two unoccupied men sent each other looks of faint unease. Alucard's grin widened.

While the initial plan had been to return later after getting everything a little more "bloody sorted," as his master always criticized, it seemed he would be spared the trip.

In hilarious retrospect, he'd flicked the pin at his fledgling on a complete whim, a half-attempt at a magic lesson (he couldn't help it if the mood grabbed him at inconvenient times). It hadn't occurred to him once that they wouldn't flee the hotel, especially since he had worded the task in such an optional way. Not that he was complaining in the slightest.

The trace of energy was faint and thin and Seras was shy a couple centuries before she could have a hope of detecting it from afar, meaning they could've only stumbled upon the actual thing. It was all impressively good luck.

"We'll be staying on the sixth floor," the frenchman holding the radio was muttering, "Though if your ATB could arrive with a little more haste…"

His two partners nodded ferociously in agreement. Alucard slinked past them and rounded a corner. Once he was clear from sight, he stepped fully into the hallway, the shadows of his portal rippling and reforming into his coat and hat. The incompetence it took to be outmaneuvered by a pair of half-blind, half-deaf fools was breathtaking, and he toyed with the idea of traumatizing those men on sheer principle. However, since he was feeling rather magnanimous, he decided to focus on other problems.

Mainly that he had no idea where they were either.

Tilting his head slightly, he gave the air an idle sniff, though the action proved futile.

All unique scents had been lost under the over-saturation of human activity and for some reason, obscene amounts of cologne. Eyebrows raising slightly, Alucard prodded at the mental link between him and Seras instead, trying to pinpoint his fledgling's location. To his growing annoyance, it remained thick and unclear, not even remotely as fluid and pliant as it was suppose to be, like water turned to blood.

Impressive magic, he had to admit, depriving him of voice even on a soundless plane. Too abstract for a vampire to perform without reducing itself to a bloodless husk. It made him wonder why it had never occurred to him the woman hadn't been one. The rotting face, the blunt teeth, she looked more ghoul than vampire, though she wasn't a ghoul either.

He didn't know what she was.

Alucard retreated his tendrils from the bond, right eyebrow ticking slightly. Come to think of it, despite nearly draining that little human dry, he still didn't know even the most basic facts about what he was dealing with. The puzzlement was a mixed feeling to be honest, of vague irritation and hysterical, inconceivable excitement.

Either way, he was certain that recovering the second pin from Seras would fill in some of the blanks. That is if he could just find the little idiot…

KABLAM

Almost on cue, a thunderous crash erupted from above Alucard's head. The men in the hallway let out startled yelps, instantly assuming half-crouched positions with their heads ducked down as the walls shuddered.

Alucard blinked, turning to stare at the ceiling for a moment, before his lips curved into a wolfish smile. My, hadn't that been convenient…

Nonchalantly, he slipped his hands into his pockets, about to saunter right by the three men still cowering in the hallway, when their radios suddenly screeched to life again.

" _PENTHOUSE!_ " a nearly-shrill voice screamed from the speaker, " _THEY'RE IN THE PENTHOUSE, GODDAMNIT! ALL UNITS TO THE FUCKING PENTHOUSE, YOU MORCEAUX DE MERDE!_ "

The men jumped slightly and the same agent as before fumbled for the radio.

"S..Signeur Anguis?" he stammered in surprise, but that was all he could say before the stairway doors slammed open.

A black river of DST agents and Scotland Yard officers came pouring in, the clatter of guns and hard-soled shoes quickly filling the hallway. Two commanding officers were in the front, one from Scotland Yard and one from the DST, both talking rapidly into separate earpieces.

"Levez-vous!" the latter barked at the three men, who scrambled to their feet and hurried into line.

Alucard edged slightly back into the shadows, though it did little to hide the glow of his wide, curious eyes, as he stared at the crowd rushing towards the isolated stairway door leading up to the penthouse.

_Oh, no,_ he thought, his grin all teeth, _We can't have that._

The 'bang' of the door slamming shut and locking left cracks in the wall plaster.

Alucard barely smothered a slightly deranged giggle as he heard the men yelp, reeling and cursing in shock. Quickly, he slipped back into the wall before stepping out into an empty suite.

_Baskerville,_ he purred, his eyes beginning to faintly glow, _Come here._

An echoing mass of tortured screams replied, contorting swiftly into a feral, alien growl. Alucard grinned, hands still in his pockets.

His shoulder turned pitch black and rippled as a large elongated shadow pried its way out of him. It spilled onto the white carpet, solidifying into a dark hulking form of muscle and sinew and fur. A pointed nose and muzzle stretched and formed, while a long shaggy tail flopped out from the shadows.

Eight blood-red eyes opened, staring.

Alucard looked on amusedly as the huge dog thudded down at his feet.

_How about some fun, my pet?_

Baskerville blinked once slowly, before turning his great head towards the door. Alucard's grin widened as his familiar looked back at him after a beat, tail beginning to wag with instant comprehension. Well, it was good to know at least someone could still understand him.

_No biting this time. Play a little game with them. Let's see how long you can keep them down here, hm?_

The black dog rose, the muscles in its haunches coiled and eager, its eyes blazing. The great maw parted, revealing fine rows of glinting teeth.

Alucard chuckled, bowing with a gesture towards the door. _After you then._

Baskerville sprang towards the exit, silent as the grave despite his massive paws. The door burst open and almost off its hinges as he neared it. A white channel of light poured into the darkened room as Alucard watched his dog land in the corridor. With blurring speed, the beast melted through the opposite wall.

Startled gunshots rang out in the hallway, bullets drilling coin-sized holes into the Stacy Garcia wallpaper. The officers snapped commands in a mess of English and French, before frantic footsteps began thundering away from the staircase.

Alucard's feet lifted idly off the ground. It was truly a pity, he thought, as the sound of several more doors exploded open in an intersecting hall, freezing the footsteps in their tracks.

His dog was having more fun than him these days.

A black portal formed on the ceiling, shadowy red-tinged tendrils reaching out to grab him. Alucard floated in and disappeared into the penthouse.

\---

There was a gaping dent where part of the penthouse wall use to be. Huge and jagged, with plaster hanging loose along the edges, revealing the wooden frames underneath. A thick cloud of white dust hovered over the area, nearly concealing the pile of cushions, feathers and protruding metal that had been the Langham's two-thousand pound loveseat.

Somewhere buried beneath that mess were two guns. They'd been the only things taken out of the equation.

Pip gasped out a winded breath, as he crashed into the pile of baskets he'd been searching through earlier, feeling at least five different corners digging into his back and ribs. The agent who'd thrown him walked up after him, shoulders taut and ready for an attack. He said something, mouth moving angrily, though all Pip heard was a garble of unintelligible noises.

The mercenary sighed in irritation, ears stinging and temples pounding.

Looking back now, while Seras's casual free throw of a whale-sized sofa had been more badass than anything they'd done so far, it'd actually been a bit pointless.

Deftly, he freed the basket tangled around his arm and pegged it at the agent with all his strength.

His opponent fumbled to deflect it, stumbling a few steps backwards. It was all the pause Pip needed to spring to his feet and lay a brutal side kick to the left shin.

The man howled and crumpled, though only a scant minute later he was staggering to his feet again. Pip stared, before whistling lowly.

"You're pissing me off and restoring my faith all at once."

The man spat something at him—probably an outraged denouncement by the look in his eyes. Pip sighed again.

"Save your breath," he gestured at his hearing aid, "Technical malfunction."

_Or a flesh-eating parasite,_ a little voice muttered in his head as another wave of pain rippled through his ears.

The man's eyes widened when they landed on the hearing devices, only now truly seeing them; he froze completely, mouth opening slightly. Pip half-hoped he'd sink into one of those torturous moral dilemmas for beating on a deaf guy and give him enough time to punch his lights out.

His plan proved unnecessary a half-second later as the body of the other agent suddenly went flying past his face in a large blur. There was a split second where his opponent's eyes grew to the size of ostrich eggs, before the two man collided into each other.

They sailed head-over-heels across the room, toppling the remaining couch and sofa, before crash-landing on the floor.

Pip had barely started to gape, his own eye becoming an impressive size as well, when a cold hand grabbed his bicep. Seras's face was pinched and urgent, and while he understood nothing that she was screaming at him, the idea was obvious enough.

"This way," he muttered, grabbing her hand and sprinting for the door. Seras paused at the exit to slam the door shut, breaking off the brass knob as if it were flimsy plastic.

Pip didn't even bother gawking about it. His head hurt too much anyway.

"The staircase should be over there," he said, leading her along as they ran down the hallway, where a silver door eventually came into view.

Pip was just about to reach for it, already trying to plan out how they were going to escape down the rest of the hotel floors, when Seras suddenly yanked him backwards.

"Mignonette?" he asked, surprised, though a feeling of dread quickly began to grow when he turned to her.

Her mouth was gaping open in surprise, the slender tips of her fangs peeking out, as she stared at the door. Without a word, she pressed her ear to the surface only for her eyes to grow even wider.

Pip sucked in a breath through his teeth. "So, what are we talking here? A couple more of Anguis's people or small army?"

Seras winced and raised two fingers.

Pip grabbed her wrist without a word and began walking away from the staircase, not having the slightest clue of where they were suppose to go.

They took about nine steps, before Pip saw the penthouse door suddenly smash open. The two DST agents stumbled out, both of them gripping their shoulders in agony.

"What the fuck," Pip said blandly as Seras jumped at the noise.

They hadn't been spotted yet, but Pip backed up further anyway, pulling Seras with him. The two guns the men had apparently unearthed from the sofa wreckage glinted in their hands.

Pip cursed as they bumped into a wall. After a moment of reluctance, he reached into his jacket for his own gun. Some part of him was finding it horribly ironic that out of all three of them, _he_ was going to be the only one to kill someone tonight.

Pip thumbed the safety and was about to pull the weapon out into the open, when something suddenly grabbed the end of his braid. A violent tug was given, sending searing, red-hot pain across what felt like half of his face.

A sharp yell escaped him before he could get his bearings and he fell backwards.

\---

Seras had just begun to contemplate the merits of blindly throwing the first thing her hand came into contact with again when she felt it.

That cold, dark feeling, like ice grazing the barest centimeter away from skin. The big, long hand that landed on her shoulder.

_There you are,_ came the sing-song voice in her head.

From beside her, Pip let out a pained squawk and everything went deathly silent for a moment as they were both yanked into the air. It ended with the roar of rooftop wind, as their feet hit the floor again, both of them stumbling as the hands holding them up promptly released.

"Mr. Alucard," Pip murmured, looking at the vampire wearily, as he cradled his ear.

Alucard simply grinned and walked right past them to stare curiously down at the growing number of flashing sirens gathering in front of the hotel.

For a long beat, Seras just stood there, flooded with a powerful mix of sheer relief and homicidal fury. While part of her wanted to thank him profusely for not abandoning them, the other part wanted to bash his face in for making them come to the hotel in the first place.

She was swiftly moving from the first to the second, before a small voice helpfully piped up.

_Technically, you were the one who suggested it to him._

The single statement left her awkwardly stuck between the two feelings, so that when she finally spoke, her voice ended up sounding partially strangled.

"Master."

Alucard turned with an arched eyebrow at the tone, and utterly misinterpreting the reason, sauntered back to his fledgling with a wolfish smile.

_I know it ails your heart being apart from me all the time, but there are more important things to deal with at the moment than your little emotions._

Without warning, he bluntly reached into Seras's pocket and pulled out the rooster pin. His eyes widened slightly as he saw threads of energy immediately emerge from the object, a vividly bright green compared to the faint, wispy black he'd seen earlier.

_Your luck never fails to astound me._ Alucard shook his head in mocking amusement and slipped the pin into his own pocket. _There was more chance of you finding buried treasure than the other pin, you know. I honestly thought you were going to leave. I wouldn't have even been angry. And you forced your way to the penthouse too, with all the crashes I heard up there. How frightening. For all that grievance, some heads must have rolled, did they not?_

Seras stared, still trying to process the first thing he'd said and whether or not to explode over it. "Wha—um, yes, I gue—I mean, no! No! MASTER!"

Alucard chuckled at her, grin widening. _No, they didn't? Or no, they did?_

"This isn't funny!" Seras screeched, nearly stomping her foot, "We broke all kinds of protocol just coming here, likely got caught on film thousands of times and now everyone thinks we're terrorists!"

"Oh, yeah," Pip commented regretfully, after having watched the exchange in bemused silence, "Damn, I forgot about that. I guess this means I'll need to stay away from the local pubs for a while. At least until the Boss can quiet everything down."

Seras's eyes bulged and Alucard scoffed.

_Why is it even the Frenchman has things in better perspective than you do? The Council will do their little dance and bury it in whatever way it's done these days. It's what they're there for._

"I'd be impressed if they could completely hush up something like this," Seras retorted, remembering the sounds of hundreds of feet thundering through the staircase door, "It's international this time. You killed a French official."

_For the last time, I didn't kill anyone. And I never said 'completely.' They'll be receiving grief for months and it's likely the end of whatever 'relations' there had actually been. But that's not my problem or yours, so what does it matter?_

Seras almost snorted, feeling slightly hysterical. "It matters to Sir Integra."

There was a considering beat. Then Alucard shrugged noncommittally. _I didn't think you would actually stay, so the terrorist business is more or less your own fault._

Seras sputtered, blind eyes widening with incoherent rage. Alucard gave her a lazy blink, before extending his hand expectantly.

_So, hand it over then._

"Wha—hand what over?"

Alucard restrained a sigh. _The second pin. The sooner you give it to me, the sooner we leave. Hurry up, don't dawdle._

It was Seras's turn to blink. "Oh, we don't have it."

Alucard stared. There was another beat. Then…

_WHAT?_

"Well we didn't exactly have time to search while we were busy being assaulted!" Seras snapped back, at her limit, "It's not like following a compass or anything. It was pointing all over the place! And what do you mean it's my fault?! You shot the telly—!"

_We are going back._

Seras instantly forgot the rest of her sentence. "Wh..What?"

Alucard simply walked past without bothering to look at her. _Come. Right now. We are going to find it. He will move it, if we don't._

"M-Master," Seras whimpered, all anger evaporating from her tone, "Wait, why is it—we can't—I mean…do we have to go back there right _now?_ "

Pip, who had decided to sit down in the meantime, rocketed to his feet again at the words.

"We're going back?!" he said, dread flooding him. His hand fell incredulously from his ear.

Instead of replying, Alucard and Seras suddenly froze, their heads snapping to him with startling speed.

Pip blinked, slightly taken aback. "W-What?"

Alucard gave him a long, strange look—crimson eyes lingering along the side of Pip's face.

_Fine,_ his voice echoed in Seras's head after a pause, _Not right now._

Seras nodded wordlessly, white eyes large and slightly dilated as she stared at the captain. Her nostrils were flared.

Increasingly unnerved, Pip's eye drifted down toward himself, searching for anything amiss. A second later, his face drained of all color.

In the moonlight, his hand was black and slick—wet and gleaming with blood.

\---

Anguis stormed up the stairs to the penthouse, violently shoving aside anyone standing in his way. His features were icy and stiff, but the barely concealed fury was evident in the white-knuckled clench of his fists.

"What happened?" he snarled, near quivering with rage, "My order was to get to the penthouse. It was a simple instruction. There were forty-three men up here AND NOT A SINGLE ONE OF YOU COULD DO EVEN THAT?!"

Beside him, the young DST agent from before jumped.

"Je t'en supplie, monsigneur," he groveled, scrambling to keep up as he frantically scanned his clipboard, "B-But the officers wanted to report the possibility of more than two suspects."

"What do you mean 'more,' you con?" Anguis snapped, elbowing a startled agent aside.

"W-Well, the units were nearly at the staircase door when it was suddenly locked from the other side. A-and then the doors of the suites reportedly began opening and shutting at random. No one has actually been foundin any of the suites yet, but—"

"What are you saying then?" Anguis cut in frostily, stopping and whirling at him, "That a person could somehow reach the sixth floor during lockdown, sneak into all fifty-five rooms and then out again without being seen by even the cameras?"

The young man gripped his clipboard nervously, holding it in front of him like a shield.

"…Some of the men also reported glimpsing a large black dog—"

"THEY'RE ALL FIRED!" Anguis roared, green eyes aflame, "Every single one! Blacklist them! The government doesn't need any more worthless idiots!"

His subordinate visibly jumped again and nodded hurriedly, scribbling it down on his clipboard, "Y-Yes, monsigneur."

Anguis breathed once deeply, collecting himself, before continuing to stride down the hallway. Truthfully, he had a good idea of what had been behind this entire mess. But as none around him even knew of the true purpose behind the meeting in the first place, he refrained. Better the fall of others than the disgrace of his family's name.

Anguis gritted his teeth, chills of rage and terror had been riddling his spine since that encounter in the hallway.

He had been too arrogant, too confident in his diplomatic skills and the control he had over most of those greedy council buffoons. His lies had been weak—an unprepared attempt at scapegoating when his repeated monetary offers had been rejected. And then to be actually played for a fool and tricked with his own words!

Anguis cursed himself again for losing his composure. He had revealed far more than he had learned in return.

The rooster on that creature's neck was scorched into his mind. It was definitely her sign, but…

_The vampire had clearly been able to see and hear. And there was no knowledge of whether the creature could even speak in the first place. Also why? Why was it there on the throat? It was always over the chest…_

Anguis's nails dug further into his palms at all of the unanswered questions tearing through his head. That Hellsing woman knew something. He didn't know how much, but the fact that she had even connected the rooster to the Witch House had made his hair stand on end. Somewhere, there had been a leak and he needed to plug it before that little _salope_ found out any more.

"Where is Commandant Petit?" he demanded, as they neared the penthouse door. For that pathetic worm to suddenly vanish when he needed him most, he was going to wring that fat, oily neck…

"Oh, well…" the agent's eyes drifted downward, somehow looking even more uncomfortable, "Actually, monsigneur, I was about to…to tell you that we foun—Mon Dieu!"

The penthouse appeared as if a tornado had smashed through it. Every single piece of unbolted furniture had been upturned and massive cracks marred the walls, spider-webbing across the room and over the ceiling. Silverware from the kitchen was spilled across the floor and near the threshold was the wrecked remains of a 2-meter length sofa.

Anguis stood perfectly still, staring.

"Monsigneur," a voice hurriedly called, as three DST agents that had been in a corner of the room rushed over.

The one that had spoken bowed his head immediately. "Please forgive me, monsigneur, my subordinates did what they could but were unable to apprehend the suspects. H…However they were able to obtain clear profiles, so we can work with Scotland Yard and begin the search immediately."

Anguis spared the man a minute look, before glancing behind him at the two others. Their faces were black and blue, with one of them sporting a vicious black eye and the other clearly favoring his right leg. They stared at the ground in silent shame.

Anguis's lip curled. "I'll have your heads for this," he hissed, and then walked briskly towards the bathroom, barely restraining the urge to run.

He dropped to his knees in front of the pile of baskets, violently tossing aside the overturned ones. That Hellsing creature had been here. He just knew it. That salope had sent her monster to investigate him.

Anguis's sweat began to run ice cold as he threw aside the fifth basket, all of them empty. His subordinates hesitantly called his name, but he ignored them, yanking over the last one with near trembling fingers.

They could not have found it. It was all over if they had found it. Why had he not kept it with him as he always did?

He upended the basket of its folded towels and soap boxes, feeling hurriedly around the bottom. His heart was almost at the back of his mouth, when he suddenly felt it. With a shuddering, all-encompassing sigh of relief, he pried up one of the basket's braids.

The red gems of a rooster's crown glinted back at him.


	13. Chapter 13

Walter delicately settled a tray of tea and cream on Integra's desk, utterly ignoring the brief scowl she shot at him as she stomped by.

Despite all her insistent requests for coffee, he was still stubbornly clinging to the possibility she'd be getting at least some rest before the sun rose for the second time. Unfortunately, it now left him hovering over the edge of Integra's desk, trying in vain to shield the fragile porcelain ware as she stormed about the area.

"No, I have no intention of even considering renegotiation," Integra snapped, nearly breaking her phone in half, "Why not-? Do none of you recall the blatantly false accusations he was throwing about? _What trauma?_ There were no casualties or ransoms. Nothing even happened!"

Sighing, Walter busied himself with straightening the numerous papers now scattered across the large desk. Most of them were pages from the preliminary report, which Integra had been meticulously reading to Sir Islands over the phone since they'd returned to the manor over an hour ago.

"And there isn't a single mention of 'artifacts' in the entire report," Integra barked, waving the papers in her hand violently, as if she wanted to smack someone with them, "You cannot actually believe any part of this operation was conducted properly."

She paused as Sir Islands spoke, and Walter inwardly cringed as her eyes grew colder and narrower.

"I would think," she replied, frost nearly visible on her breath, "Based upon all the general bribery and deceit occurring recently, that it would be in our best interest to demand an explanation, sir."

Another pause.

"Evidence? The general lack of competence throughout this whole debacle should be evidence enough!"

Walter scanned a copy of one of the eye-witness accounts, his thin brows slowly rising as he did. Even from a paper report, it was clear to him that the witness had not been of the most reliable state of mind; the questions that'd been asked were also overly complex and strangely worded, with the interrogator all but answering the questions himself.

Frowning, Walter set the report down, absently steadying the teapot as Integra slammed a fist against her desk in fury. He doubted bureaucratic carelessness to such an extreme degree could really be accidental, but the whole thing was simply missing too many pieces to have any kind of coherency.

And he was wary of how much longer they would remain unscathed without knowing the full story.

"What will you do about Scotland Yard?" Integra asked, pacing by him, "Will they pursue this?"

She paused, listening to Sir Island's reply as she tossed the rest of the papers onto her desk. Walter calmly straightened them, and was sliding them back into their proper folders when Integra suddenly spoke again.

"No, we departed after the building was cleared. They must have escaped sometime before then."

Walter's head snapped up in surprise. Integra blithely ignored him.  
"I suggest treading lightly, Sir Islands," she said, "It is a tad difficult convincing you of what you don't wish to hear, but that man is not interested in national relations. Take that for what you will and good luck."

She hung up without waiting for a reply, shoving the phone back into its cradle before turning to Walter.

"Did you call Alucard?"

"Yes, ma'am," the butler replied mildly, "His phone seems to be off again."

Integra sighed in tired frustration and closed her eyes, trying the mental link. Nothing but stillness, just like the last five times she tried. It was as if she was beating against an invisible wall. Though she was near certain the witch's curse was at fault, Integra resolved to check Hellsing's own seals as soon as Alucard returned. The very last thing she needed right now was for the power restrictions to break open as well.

"I'm starting to wonder if he even understands the concept of having a cell phone."

Walter said nothing, trying a bit too hard not to appear overtly curious. Integra sighed again.

"You want to know why I didn't tell them," she said, not bothering to phrase it as a question.

The butler inclined his head in apology, "I possess limited experience with politics at best, my lady, but would it not be pertinent to fully inform the Round Table on what happened? They seem unlikely to put in the same amount of effort to cover the incident if none of us are directly involved."

Integra smiled lightly, "Limited experience? Don't be modest, Walter. You'd be right in any other circumstance."

She brushed aside a stray folder on her desk, uncovering a silver case of Cuban cigars.

"It's not a matter of how much effort they'll put into it," she said, plucking one out, "But rather their capability to control the situation in the first place."

Walter's eyebrow arched despite himself. "You believe the media can't be reigned in?"

It was hard to imagine any of London's small, fame-starved media outlets posing a problem to some of the most powerful men in the country.

Integra snorted, "Those leeches? Of course not. I'll concede the Council is quite adept with the art of miscommunication. What I'm talking about is the insanity to grace the airwaves in another eight hours."

Walter made a thoughtful noise, "I see, there would be a mite of international fuss, wouldn't there? And I suppose with enough _enthusiasm_ it could all be spun as an assassination attempt."

"Even more so now that Scotland Yard has insisted on getting themselves involved," she replied, checking her pockets for her lighter, "As far as effort is concerned, I imagine the Council will be plenty eager to bury the whole affair. There's no need to reveal more."

Walter picked up Integra's lighter, which had been absentmindedly pushed to a corner of her desk.

"But you don't believe they'll succeed, Sir Integra?" he asked, flicking it for her.

"With time, I'm sure they can," she replied, gratefully lighting up, "They're skilled at nothing if not hiding after all. Just not within a matter of weeks like usual. It depends on how big of a deal the French will make out of it."

Ice frosted the edges of her eyes as she added lowly, "And I'm sure he'll make it a production."

Walter nodded, having been thinking along the same lines. Seras and Pip's little adventure must have been like godsend to Anguis, given the way Integra had essentially cornered him at the Langham.

"On the other hand, my lady," he said, trying to be positive, "it will at least be clear he had withheld information."

Integra snorted in disgust, "As if that wasn't already abundantly clear."

She turned toward the office window, mood visibly darkening even more as the subject turned to the French official.

"…Something bothers me," she said after a pause, "Do you remember the way he looked at him?"

Walter blinked, "At who, ma'am?"

Integra didn't turn around, gazing steadily at the moon, "Alucard. The way he looked at him."

"Ah," he nodded—it was hard to forget when a man eyed a five hundred year old vampire like he would a rare gemstone, "Yes, I do seem to recall Lord Anguis was quite…enchanted."

Granted, it hadn't been the first time someone had found Alucard pleasing to the eye and certainly wouldn't be the last.

"Not just that," Integra said, voice growing softer and grimmer by the second, "There was recognition, Walter. …Almost like familiarity."

She turned back to him abruptly before he could ask what she meant, long white-blonde hair falling around her like a cloak.

"How many people would walk up to Alucard like that? No matter what absurd rubbish they've learned from books and television."

It was an obvious question. Aside from the (possibly suicidal) Wild Geese, Hellsing's soldiers and staff tried their best to avoid Alucard. Even the newer hires, who had yet to be properly introduced and thus still found him fascinating and exciting, kept a safe distance. It was an instinctual reaction, he supposed, to recognize a predator no matter how harmless it appeared.

"Well, Alucard did mention the family has had history with the supernatural," Walter offered, remembering the near chicken scratch his old friend had been scribbling into the notebook, "Perhaps they've had encounters with vampires before."

Integra's eyebrow arched, "If that's the case, I'm astounded an outbreak hasn't happened yet, seeing as they have no defense system to speak of."

"It could be a small population. The younger, weaker breed is more common these days after all, if we are assuming the one from the recent mission isn't a vampire."

"Even the 'weaker' breed can rack in sixty percent casualty rates without trained and specialized hunters," she sighed, giving her cigar one last puff before grinding it in her ashtray, "And why would they tell us she is then? What advantage could there possibly be in lying if they wanted us to kill her?"

"I can only think they feared you would reject their request otherwise, Sir Integra. Clearly, she possesses some abilities that would've been too troublesome to want to deal with."

"And so they thought it better for us to go in completely unprepared instead," Integra finished sardonically, and then ran a hand tiredly through her hair, "But you know what's going to happen if that is actually the case, Walter."

He nodded. The number of items breached by such deception was uncountable—contract, trust, principle. And after how badly it had crippled their side, he was doubtless that Integra was going to demand as many reparations as she could.

"I think it would be best if we tread cautiously, my lady," he advised seriously, "Her Majesty has her heart set on these relations after all. I doubt this will be anything she'll accept easily without solid proof."

And that was the problem, wasn't it?

They had nothing. No evidence and no allies in the Council or court. The only word they could give came from an immortal monster, who most of the Council regarded as little more than a caged animal.

"Oh, you needn't worry about that, Walter," Integra replied, eyes narrowed in cold determination, "No one will be doing anything until I get to the bottom of this whole mess."

He nodded immediately, not doubting her in the least. There was a lull between them, which would've languished into silence, if not for the small curiosity still nipping at him-something he couldn't help but voice.

"So, if not a vampire, what do you suppose she is?"

Integra opened her mouth to reply, but abruptly forgot her answer when her breath suddenly came out in a white jet of mist. There was a sharp crack as the large overhead lamp fizzled out, plunging them into darkness, and the whole room seemed to drop thirty degrees in temperature.

Walter and Integra had just enough time to blink at each other, before the ceiling began to ripple and shift. Crimson-tinged shadows dripped down from the paneling as if liquid, forming into a large misshapen sphere.

Half a second later, the shadows dispersed and unraveled.

They saw Alucard first. Hair wild and eyes blazing, he would've been akin to a devil arriving from Hell if not for Seras and Pip clinging to either of his arms, screaming bloody murder.

They crashed onto Integra's office floor in an ungraceful mess, Alucard moreso because the other two were dragging him down.

"Ohmygod, Ohmygod, Ohmygod," Seras was still chanting in near tears, while Pip hysterically rattled off what sounded like a French prayer beneath his breath.

Integra and Walter stared.

Alucard, who looked stuck between amusement and irritation, yanked his arms out of their grasps and disentangled himself. He took a moment to brush off imaginary dust particles from his coat before bothering to spare Integra and Walter a glance.

Almost idly, he pointed at Pip. Blood trickled thick and bright down from his right ear, coating his cheek and neck.

There was a beat.

___

"Well, it appears the ear canal has swelled up a great deal," Doctor Trevilian said, lowering his otoscope with an odd look, "Possible infection could explain the pain."

Integra nodded, standing stiffly a few meters away from the chair Pip was sitting in. The young mercenary captain blinked confusedly at Trevilian, wincing slightly as the doctor pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed against the edge of his ear.

"The hearing aid isn't working anymore," Integra commented, staring at the top of Pip's head .

Doctor Trevilian sighed, running his free hand through his hair—still a disheveled mess since he'd tumbled out of bed and rushed over only twenty minutes before. "Yes, I'm afraid I'm at a loss with that. My initial fear was he'd ruptured his eardrum, given the bleeding, but that doesn't seem to be the case."

As he spoke, his gaze drifted over to the discarded hearing aid lying on a nearby table. It was almost unrecognizable, a stark blood-soaked crimson compared to the white napkin it was laying on. The poor lad had almost broken the armrest off the chair when he'd taken it off. Strangely enough however, the pain seemed to have diminished drastically afterwards and the bleeding had finally stopped—something Trevilian could not make heads or tails of.  
_And what's more…_

Integra's brows rose, "Is there any permanent damage at all then?"

"Not that I could see," he replied, hesitating slightly, "Though, well, do you recall that…marking I told you about, Sir Integra?"

He nearly jumped in surprise the next second as Integra suddenly strode over, glasses flashing.

"What?"

"In his ear, that rooster-shaped—"

"Yes, yes, I know what you mean," she snapped impatiently, "What about it?"

"Boss?" came Pip's too loud voice as he stared up at her in surprise as well, "What—"

Integra shot an icy look at Pip, silencing him instantly, before sending an expectant one at Trevilian.

"Well, I can't be certain if it's simply from the swelling or not, but," he rubbed the back of his neck, feeling slightly foolish, "It seems to have…grown."

Silence.

Integra turned to Pip, who was fiddling with the half-broken armrest, and stared at him contemplatively. Trevilian could practically see the cogs turning in her head, though what she could possibly have garnered from such information was beyond him.

"Can I see it?"

Trevilian blinked. "Pardon, ma'am?"

"His ear. Can I take a look, doctor?" The hand she was already holding out said that she planned to take a look regardless.

"Of course, Sir Integra," he agreed, quickly passing over the otoscope, "Just use this switch for the light."

The woman nodded in thanks, before turning to Pip. Her touch on his shoulder wasn't sudden at all, but it made him flinch anyway. His eye widened in puzzlement when he saw the otoscope in her hand.

"Boss?"

"Don't move," she ordered, taking care to enunciate the words clearly in front of him. Pip stared at her for a moment, before shrugging and nodding.

She didn't look for very long, but when she pulled the otoscope out of Pip's ear, her expression was flat and bemused.

"Thank you, Doctor Trevilian. I apologize for disturbing you so late at night," she said after a pause, handing over the tool, "I can have the maids prepare a room for you, if you'd rather not return at such an hour. Otherwise, one of the drivers can take you back."

He nodded, refraining from asking what on Earth was going on, despite how it would've sated his curiosity. He'd learned ages ago that, for the sake of his own physical and mental well-being, Hellsing's secrets were best left unknown to him.

"It was no trouble, Sir Integra," he replied amiably, "Call me any time you need to. Though in the meantime, if the hearing aid continues to not work, I absolutely recommend getting him to learn some basic sign language or lip-reading."

Integra nodded, and there was something almost sadistic in the glint of her eye.

"Of course. It wouldn't do to continue in such an inconvenient manner."

Trevilian inwardly cringed and clapped a puzzled-looking Pip on the shoulder in sympathy.

"Very good, ma'am. I wish everyone a good evening," he said mildly, gathering his supplies into his bag, "Could I trouble one of your drivers into taking me home? I have some work that still needs completing. Though before I depart, I must insist that-"

The door burst open.

"Sir Integra," Walter called, hastily shrugging on a jacket, "Please excuse my manners, but I'll have to step out for a few minutes. One of our cars is still in the Langham garage."

Integra's eyes bulged. "WHAT?"

Doctor Trevilian's eyebrows rose at the instant evaporation of her calm composure. The Langham? Now that he thought about it, he'd heard on the news that some high-ranked official had arrived there earlier. Had something happened?

Unnoticeably from behind them, Pip winced and slunk out the back doors, having more or less figured out what was causing the current upset.

"Which car?" Integra demanded sharply.

Walter looked uncomfortable, "…the Porsche."

He may as well have said her newborn infant had just been hurled off the roof.

"Go," Integra said tightly, visibly trying to restrain herself from practically shoving Walter out the door, "Go now. I swear, if it gets seized…"

"Oh, not to worry, Sir Integra, we parked in one of those dark inner corners," a sudden voice hurried to reassure.

All heads snapped to the doorway, where a nervous-looking Seras stood awkwardly at the threshold. Doctor Trevilian's eyes widened. Though he had always caught glimpses of the Hellsing vampires and saw them asleep just this morning, it was the first time he'd seen one of them awake and up close. Her resemblance to an ordinary (albeit beautiful) girl was shocking.

Integra was not so fascinated.

" _Seras,_ " she grounded out through clenched teeth, almost snarling.

The draculina cringed, taking a slight step backwards. "W-We had no choice, ma'am. Captain Bernadotte was bleeding really badly and I…well, I think I'd be the last person you'd want behind the wheel at the moment. It was either leave the car there or…" A visible shudder went through her body. "…let Master drive."

The rage deflated from Integra like an old balloon.

"You made a very wise call," she said, voice suddenly soft and approving, "I'm quite impressed."

Doctor Trevilian stared. From his right, Walter sighed.

"Did you need something, Miss Victoria?" he asked, gently butting in.

Seras blinked. "Oh! Yes, well actually, Walter…" A look of extreme discomfort and anxiety suddenly crossed her face.

"Um, Master wanted me to tell you to…pick up Baskerville too when you go get the car."

Silence.

Walter broke it with another defeated sigh and hurried out of the room without bothering to say another word. Trevilian watched him go in utter puzzlement and was just about to ask who Baskerville was when Integra promptly exploded.

_**"HE LEFT HIS MONGREL THERE?!"** _

Seras hastily bowed, squeaking out an apology before scurrying off like a frightened field mouse. Trevilian was lost for words. He could only think Integra must be growing quite attached to her vampires if she was allowing them pets now of all things.

"I'm going to kill him," Integra was muttering, sounding faintly deranged, "I'm going to kill him this time. I really am. I'm going to wrap my hands around his pale bony neck and strangle him with his own ascot."

She began storming out of the room as well, whispering of all the heinous ways she could murder her vampire. Trevilian let her go for a few seconds.

"Sir Integra, I'm afraid you'll have to punish him later."

Integra whipped around, eyes flashing with icy anger. Trevilian held his ground.

"As I was saying before, Walter has informed me that you haven't slept since the end of the previous mission. Which was a day ago."

Her glare intensified, but Trevilian could see the faint rings of fatigue around her eyes. He was going to win this one.

___

Seras stumbled her way down the basement stairs, groping the walls carefully as she went.

"Sir Integra's going to kill us," she said in despair, not even jumping when she felt a large hand suddenly grip her elbow, "Probably tomorrow in our sleep."

 _Hm._ Alucard offered, not sounding particularly concerned as always. _Did you tell Walter about Baskerville?_

Seras just sighed. "About how you released a hellhound on the general London public? Yeah, I did."

 _Good._ Alucard replied simply, _I need his memories of tonight._

"Huh? Why?"

_He was there longer. He might've seen where it was moved._

Seras blinked, before realizing what he meant.

"That pin again?" she nearly whined, shoulders slumping, "Master, can you please tell me what makes it so important already?"

Alucard's slender eyebrows rose. _You've experienced the energy coming from it. It doesn't strike you as strange that something practically radiating with dark magic is being carried around like a fashion accessory?_

Seras's frown softened in bemusement. "I suppose it would be odd…But how is it connected to anything that's happened to us?"

He stared at her, as if he couldn't believe anyone could be so dense.

_The first one was found at the site in France, correct? And we know a second matching one is somewhere in the hands of that revolting, inappropriate swine. There's no difference in their shapes or texture and the energy is identical. What conclusion can be drawn from this then, seeing as the French clearly lied about having no connections with that House?_

Seras's eyebrows furrowed as she tried to puzzle out what he was getting at, though all she could really think about was that he was in no position to be calling anyone 'inappropriate.'

"…it means, the two of them are somehow linked?" she said eventually, resorting to a stab in the dark, "Like they share the same purpose?"

By some miracle, Alucard actually seemed satisfied with the answer.

_What did you feel, police girl, when we first entered the house?_ He pressed, _How did you notice that there was a seal in place?_

"How did I notice…?" she trailed off, recalling the unpleasant night. She remembered the strange, naked chill she'd gotten just from stepping through the threshold, that same coldness and darkness, that same lurid glow from a horribly green eye.

Seras's sightless eyes widened. "The pins are seals."

Alucard let the tiniest bit of a proud smile slip through. _So it would seem._

His fledgling spun towards him, for once actually managing to look directly at him. "Does this mean she's been using them somehow? Are they sealing us too? Why does Anguis have one of them in the first place then? Oh God, th-that means—this is not good, Master—really not good—we can't just sit down here—we need to tell someone!" she ended with a near-yell, flailing her arms in panic.

Alucard stared back for a moment blankly. To think a year had passed already and he still wasn't completely use to these sudden bouts of blathering Seras seemed to so enjoy.

 _Stay here,_ he snapped, pulling her back when she tried to move past him and grope her way back up the stairs again. _It's more complex than you think, you idiot. They're not sealing any part of you._

Absentmindedly, Alucard's free hand went up to graze the base of his neck. _Something else is apparently doing that._ What a pain too, as if he didn't have enough sigils etched into his flesh.

"Eh? Then what is it sealing?" Seras asked, utterly confused.

Instead of answering, Alucard dipped into his pocket, producing the pin. Even in the pitch darkness of the basement, it had an unnatural red and green glint. Alucard's eyes narrowed as he saw the strings of energy coming from it continue to glow a bright, bright green, not the withered black it had always been before they'd gone to the hotel.

Had it broken? There'd been no noticeable release of power, though he supposed that was no surprise if he was right about what this pin was sealing.

 _Her children._ He answered, before releasing Seras. He disappeared through the wall without waiting for her reaction.

\---

Pip flopped down on his bed, feeling like he hadn't laid on it in decades.

After making sure Integra hadn't been charging after him with a broad ax, he'd returned to the barracks, warned his men to go easy on the boss's wide-screen tv for a while, before attempting to convey with a glare the degree in which he wanted them all to fuck off.

The Geese though (ever observant, the lot of them) had yet to finish digesting the news that their captain had regained his hearing. He had had to stare blankly as at least four pairs of lips flapped soundlessly in his face, before Silford realized he wasn't wearing the hearing aid anymore and herded the men out for a late night at the pub.

Pip was more relieved than he thought he'd be. Though given the look Silford had shot at him, he'd still have to explain what happened to the hearing aid later.

With a sigh, Pip pulled a cigarette out of one of the dozens of stray cartons lying on a nearby table.

It was too bad he didn't know what the hell happened either.

In hindsight, he probably should've actually dealt with his problem, rather than rely completely on the hearing aid, but it had really made him feel worlds better about the whole situation. To have all sounds snatched from him a second time was just depressing.

Lighting his cigarette, the captain of the Wild Geese turned his gaze idly to the window. The myriad of city lights twinkled back, brighter than stars. And half obscured behind Big Ben's shadow, he could make out the shadowy form of the Walkie Talkie—a tower in the darkness.

A sudden burst of pain spiked across the back of his ear, making Pip wince.

"Ow, ugh, merde…." He muttered, but made no move to attend to it, simply exhaling a cloud of wispy smoke instead.

Thankfully, the majority of the pain had faded since they'd returned. Pip had no idea how and he didn't much give a damn either.

It would come back to haunt him.

\---

_It woke to the smell of bones. The weight of La Mer lapped against its salted head. Waves pooled in its mouth—boneless and ringed with teeth._

_(Again)_

_It spat. A black ooze of drool seeped into the brine. La Mer tasted of humans._

_(No.)_

_The world slumbered in darkness. So it saw nothing and yet knew._

_It was hideous once more._

__Oh, don't think in such a way, my little akachan.

_From La Mer She rose. Dark as coal._

_White as bone._

_A green eye like La Mer's once-lovely kelp hair._

_Its voice gurgled into the depths._

__Mère.

_A ring of rot stretched as She smiled._

You are slow to wake. I was worried. Have you slept well?

_It reached for Her, rising with a tremble of slime and water._

You are not here, Mère.

No, I suppose not.

Are you dead, Mère?

No.

Am I dead, Mère?

_Blue-green lips parted. A strip of white teeth flashed._

You are so much more, little akachan. What do you hear?

La Mer with La Terre. A gull's scream. The madness of the fishes.

 _It stopped, one bulbous yellow eye turned._ I can hear, Mère.

_(Again)_

_The green eye quivered in its socket._

You can. A gift for you. A special one this time.

_It remembered darkness and teeth. A crimson-red man who laughed. It heaved its head up, spray dripping down its barnacled sides._

_(No.)_

Mère, be warned. He is old and hungry. He will find you.

Age does little but make us fools, akachan. And your gift came not from him. Do not worry any more. Your beautiful form is gone. Do you want it back?

_Beautiful. White skin and willow frames. Like that of the golden woman. Like that of the laughing man. Beautiful._

Yes.

Good. Then fill yourself with the blood of mortals once again. Drown yourself. Embrace the blood, or you will remain as you are now. Hideous.

And these sounds, Mère? Are they mine forever?

_The decayed lips fell for the first time. The green eye spun towards the distant shore filled with glimmering lights._

Part of you has been taken, my akachan. Stolen from our lovely House and brought to the English isles. When I bring it back, they shall be yours forever.

Did the crimson man take it?

_The black eye narrowed._

I told you to forget him, darling.

I cannot fight him. He will eat me.

No. _Her hair rose, wraith-like tendrils in the darkness._ No, he cannot touch you. Not here.

_La Mer caressed him, leaving black trails of human ooze. Even for La Mer, beauty had not been eternal._

Why did he come for us, Mère? What does he care of mortals?

_The smile rose again, fuller and wider than before. Strips of flesh strained and curled against the side of Her cheeks._

Anguis-sama sent him. _The green eye swiveled in delight._ But no matter. This is a good chance to show him how much we have changed, my akachan. My form was almost complete. Let us see what Anguis-sama thinks once I bathe it in the blood of those pretty, pretty vampires.

_The skin once covered by Her hair was rotting. The white sheen of bone and skull sat half-uncovered in the dark._

_Waves crashed against its sides._ Yes, Mère.

Good. Now go.

_It did, massive body lurching toward the distant shore, sliding like a nightmare beneath the water's black surface._


	14. Chapter 14

Alucard sat in his room, staring at the wall with the unblinking stillness of the dead. By half past midnight, most of the sounds of the manor had died down, leaving only the sound of cricket chirps to fill the silence. By one, the sound of his master's angry footsteps faded away. Alucard frowned lightly, glancing at the ceiling. Strange, it was still relatively early for her to be retiring.

He braced himself for another hour. Nothing. Not even the cursing of his name could be heard. It was as the manor was sinking into a more deathly silence that he accepted (with some relief and some disappointment) that she wouldn't be coming after him tonight. He didn't bother wondering why—excessive thought was better left to humans.

By 3am he heard Walter pull back into the estate's garage. Or more accurately, a trail of muttered profanity floated down from the cellar window.

Alucard tilted his head toward the sound in vague amusement, but still didn't move to stand. He could hear the basement door swinging open haphazardly as Walter's voice trailed down from the top of the stairs.

"Alright, off you go. Your master's down there somewhere," he said, sounding more than a little exasperated. There was the rapid pattering sound of claws against flooring. The door shut with a rusty squeak.

Barely five seconds later, the front wall shivered and darkened. Baskerville's black hulking shape melted through the stones.

Eight crimson eyes blinked slowly at him, maw parted to reveal a long pale-pink tongue and white serrated teeth. The shaggy tail was wagging ferociously, causing a wry arch in Alucard's brow.

He gestured the hound forward and it trotted over obediently, sitting down at the foot of his chair.

_Seen anything?_

Baskerville licked its chops. With a long, pale hand, Alucard laid his palm down against its head, as if to pet it.

_Show me._

His shoulder and arm burst open into a flame of black shadows, the red sleeve of his trench coat vanishing. Dark tendrils reached out toward Baskerville, who sat still and calm as death, save for the still wagging tail. They swallowed the hound without ceremony, dragging it back into the vortex of Alucard's body.

The memory came in a red haze.

One of the exceedingly elaborate hallways of the Langham took shape. Two men were walking briskly down it; one, he recognized in disgust, was Anguis, while the other was a visibly younger man, with a nervous, mousy disposition—the tell-tale signs of easy prey.

_"The Prime Minister will be making a public apology tomorrow evening,"_ he was assuring hurriedly, clutching a clipboard to his chest, _"But due to the, eh…classified nature of the meeting, the President and the Queen both feel a more subdued version would—"_

_"That is fine,"_ Anguis dismissed with a curt wave, _"He has no family to make a fuss on his behalf. I want the autopsy report by tomorrow."_

_"Yes, monseigneur,"_ his companion answered, feverishly jotting onto his clipboard, _"The Chief Inspector promised tomorrow evening at the latest—"_

_"No. Have them send the body back to France."_

The younger man nearly dropped his pen. _"Wh-What? But the jurisdiction lies with—"_

_"Commandant Petit was a dear friend and faithful assistant of mine for many years. I'm sure you can reach some sort of agreement once you appeal to their more…noble sensibilities."_

_"B-But—"_

Anguis stopped mid-step and the younger man's mouth shut so quickly there was an audible 'snap.' A thick pause ensued, in which Alucard stared at the boy's adam's apple as it bobbed.

_"Understood?"_

_"…Y-Yes, monseigneur."_

_"Good."_ They continued walking. _"Have Docteur Mercier take care of it. …We've worked together quite extensively in the past."_

_"Yes, monseigneur. …Shall I prepare for your flight back to France afterwards then?"_

Anguis suddenly stopped again and his companion skidded violently to avoid bumping against him. A low chuckle reverberated across the hall.

_"You really are a fool, aren't you, petit chien? The negotiations have barely begun. Why on Earth would I leave?"_

The younger man looked surprised, a nervous confusion brewing behind his mud-colored eyes as he rechecked his clipboard. _"B-But, Sir Hellsing has already declined the offer."_

_"Time has a way with changing minds,"_ his head shifted, giving the profile of a tight, cruel smile, _"We'll see how long she stands by her decision in the next few days. In the meantime, have them settle us in new quarters. I'd prefer something…near water. For the view."_

He turned fully then, moving out of the lamplight shadows. A rooster's crown and tail glinted piercingly bright, from where it was pinned on the edge of a dark coat lapel.

Alucard smiled coldly.

_Good boy._

A growl echoed across the cavernous halls, sounding remarkably pleased with itself, before the scene vanished in a dispersion of shadows, bringing the stone wall of the Hellsing basement back into focus. Alucard rose from his chair, tossing his glasses and hat onto the table. Though it would be dawn in a few more hours, he reluctantly turned from his coffin, heading towards the wall instead.

Now that he knew the pin wasn't immediately being transferred across the ocean, it was time he found out more about the spellwork being used on him. He wasn't naïve enough to believe Integra was letting him off simply because she'd staid her hand for one night (as exciting as that somewhat was).

Perhaps she would go easier on him if he did a little overtime.

\---

_It heard the women before it saw them. Squealing and splashing. The sounds of drowning seals, which bounced along the coral bed._

_A shark swam in rings a few feet below their flapping legs._

Eateateateateat… _It could hear it say. That was all they ever said, the fishes. So it was centuries ago when it last heard them and so it was now._

_(Nothing changes.)_

_Cleaner wrasses wriggled inside its head, nibbling at its brain. Their voices, thin and mad, trill onward in ecstasy as they dissolve alive._

EAtEateATeatEAT… 

_Simple little things._

_(Still.)_

_It had missed the sounds of their madness._

_Slowly, it stuck its head out of the reefs._

_A wandering moray eel swam frantically away._ FleeFLEEFleEfleeflee… _It hissed, cackling._

_Two shadowed figures floated far up on La Mer's surface, shattering the sunlight. Yet it could see their supple skin and flowing hair._

_The taste of women…its body shuddered with longing._

_On land, Mère only allowed the blood to be consumed, thin and flavorless, occasionally plucking out eyes and organs for her own uses, but never sparing them any._

_Only through the blood would they become beautiful, was what She said. And She was right in the sense that their new forms had been as skeletal and pale as those creatures of darkness that Mère so longed to become._

_She insisted it was what Anguis wanted, though it could not remember why the desires of one puny man should matter to any of them, Mère especially._

_(In truth…)_

_It had not wanted those hands, slender and long, tipped in claws that were hard to move._

_It has missed its own hands, which flowed out of its shell now, belching up a cloud of black colored slime. Fish scattered into the open water, tails swishing wildly._

fleefleefleefleefleefleefleefleefleefleefleefleeflee… 

_The women chattered. Muffled by the waves, their voices were nasal and unpleasant. Strange, it thought, as its tattered arms hovered below their white toes. Women had always made the sounds that it missed most._

_It pulled them under._

_For a moment, it simply dragged them, watching their gold-streaked hair unfurl in La Mer as they sunk down limply toward the reef, eyes wide, saltwater flooding into their fragile lungs._

_It was a quarter of a way down that they saw what was pulling them. They flailed and squirmed in its clutches, their small human hands clawing at the water._

_Their mouths flew open, large bubbles bursting forth and it could hear the screams encased in each one. High-pitched and wretched with fear. Ah, yes, there it was._

_Of all their tender organs and stringy muscles, nothing could compare to that sound._

_Nothing screamed like a woman could._

\---

Pip woke with a strangled yell and flew upwards, feeling his heart pounding through the roots of his teeth and was already half-tangled out of bed, before he remembered where he was. Shuddering, he ran a quivering hand through his hair and fumbled around for a cigarette carton.

It wasn't until he had taken a deep lungful of smoke that his heart finally stopped bashing against his rib cage.

"Merde," he muttered, touching his right ear, which was aching fiercely again. It was amazing he even had the capacity for nightmares anymore. Yet the screams of women rattled his brains—a horrible echo that seemed to only grow louder without other sounds to filter it out.

Groaning, he rolled out of bed and quickly popped on his shoes. The sun was already a quarter of the way up the sky, lighting up the moors and forest surrounding the estate. The clock sitting on his nearby table read 6:42, more than an hour after when the morning drills should have begun.

Silford must have taken over command for the day, as the bed across from his was made and empty. He'd probably fallen asleep before the men had gotten back from the pub, which meant he still owed them some sort of coherent explanation. Sighing, he lifted his hand to knead his brow, only to find his fingers smeared with blood again.

"Ah mon dieu…" he muttered, quickly staggering over to the door, "Great."

He pulled it open and almost collided straight into another body.

"Whoa!" The slighter form stumbled backwards and Pip, while startled, reached to steady him on instinct, his single eye widening when he saw who it was.

"You."

A pair of blue eyes looked back at him, framed by a boyish tangle of dirty blonde hair and freckles. The young man smiled brightly at him, perfectly cheerful, as if Pip hadn't almost knocked him on his ass.

"Mornin' Cap'em," he said, saluting, "Not sure you remember me, but I flew you back from France 'bout two nights ago per the Director's orders."

As he talked, the boy pulled a notepad out of his pocket, which had everything he was apparently saying already written on it. Pip blinked in surprise; he'd thought the whole botched mission would've remained classified from the regular soldiers.

"I remember," he said, after a quick scan of the message, "William Blade right? You're from the SAS crowd."

The smile that was beamed at him could've put the sun to shame. Eagerly, Will pulled the notepad back, scribbled something down, before showing it to him again.

_Yes, sir, though feel free to call me 'Will.' I got recruited this spring along with O'Malley and Collins. They were placed elsewhere by the Commander, but I'm part of the 2nd unit with Smith and Henderson._

Pip nodded a bit awkwardly, pretending as if he knew who any of those people were. He didn't really interact with the Hellsing troops outside of missions and got the feeling most of them looked down on him and his men for being mercs fighting for pocket change instead of God and Queen.

"What brings you to the Wild Geese, kid?" he asked in the end, cutting straight to the point.

Will turned to a new page with a message already written on it, about to flip it around, when his eyes strayed toward the side of Pip's face. His smile dropped clean off.

"Sir, y-your…"

Pip stared confusedly for a moment, before remembering he was still bleeding like a stuck pig.

"Oh. One second."

He brushed by the startled younger man, disappearing into the washroom down the hall. Fortunately, the bleeding had stopped and the ache was dissipating, though not before leaving a long trail of dried blood that led nearly to his chin.

Pip quickly washed up, splashing some water on his face to clear his head. He turned back and almost immediately crashed into Will again, who had followed him to the washroom doorway.

"Alright there, Cap'em?" he asked, forgetting to write it down, though the concern on his face was obvious enough.

"It's nothing," Pip waved him off, though he wasn't quite sure of that himself, "So, what are you here for again?"

He was given a careful, hesitant look, but the notepad was eventually held back up for Pip to read.

_The Director's given me an assignment concerning you, sir._

Pip's eye widened.

"The boss has?" he repeated uneasily, "About what?" He'd managed to escape last night before anything ugly happened, but it was easy to imagine what Integra's reaction had been. Goddamn it, he knew they shouldn't have taken the Porsche!

Will must have seen the anxiety on his face, because he laughed and lightly patted his arm.

_Relax, Captain, he wrote, It's nothin' bad. I'm to be your teacher is all._

"Teacher?"

Instead of answering, the other man suddenly slipped the pad back into his uniform pocket. Then he raised his hands, placing a loose fist into the other's palm, starting at the base of his chest before moving toward Pip in an arch. His mouth moved slowly so Pip could read the words being formed.

I-WILL-HELP-YOU

Pip's heart sunk in realization.

"Sign language, huh?"

Will nodded, though his smile was sympathetic. He added 'And lip-reading' with his notepad.

Pip sighed. It was sensible, he knew it was; the chaos back in France was testament to that. He hadn't been hired to twiddle his thumbs and feel sorry for himself. Even if the idea of learning sign and reading lips suddenly made everything seem…so real. Permanent.

"Alright."

Will's smile grew. He waved for the mercenary to follow.

They left the bunks, passing through what remained of the rec room after the men's drunken return last night. The television was still on, settled on the news channel. A shot of the English Channel was being shown on screen. Despite the unusually sunny day, the waters looked black and foreboding. A headline in white letters trailed along the bottom of the screen.

Pip froze mid-step.

TWO WOMEN VANISH IN DORSET, LAST SEEN ENTERING THE WATERS ALONG KNOLL BEACH. COAST GUARD CONTINUES SEARCH. FAMILIES IN SHOCK.

A streak of pain suddenly ripped upward through his temple and skull. Pip's eye widened in agony and he had to bite his tongue to keep from crying out. His hand flew up to clutch at his ear.

Screams seemed to echo outward from somewhere deep inside it.

_...nothing screamed like a woman could..._

A hand landed on his shoulder and he jolted violently. Will's face appeared in front of him, surprised and disconcerted, eyes drawn down in worry. His mouth moved hurriedly and he was pulling out the notepad, though Pip could already guess what he'd write.

"I'm fine," he muttered, forcing himself to relax, "I'm fine, sorry."

Will didn't look any more convinced than he was before. He wrote quickly into his notepad anyway.

_That happen often?_

"Started last night," Pip replied, rubbing his temple gently with the heel of his hand, "I had a hearing aid, but my ear was bleeding like fucking crazy from it after a couple of hours." _Not the best state ever when standing around with two vampires on a six-story roof..._

The younger man lightly cringed at his words, though he looked surprisingly resolute as well.

_Don't worry, Captain, you won't need one when I'm through with you._

Pip blinked, chuckling somewhat nervously, "H-heh, no need to word it like that."

Will smiled serenely back, not an ounce of humor in his expression. Pip's weak grin died a slow death, the first feelings of dread beginning to grow in his gut.

_Merde…_

\---

Integra stifled a contented yawn and worked a crick out of her neck. As much as she hated losing arguments, Doctor Trevilian had been right. After some much needed sleep, she felt refreshed and clear-headed, better able to deal with the crisis at hand.

Which, though he didn't know it yet, was great news for certain dark entities of the household.

She pulled her gun from its holster, nimbly flipping it in her hand.

This had certainly been one of Alucard's more destructive fits of disobedience. The full story wasn't even out yet, and she'd already been told the Langham was closing indefinitely, the country was now on national terror alert, and the Prime Minister's office had been hounded with calls since six this morning. Going by her grandfather's journals, Abraham would've had the vampire strung up in blessed chains by now.

And yet.

With a sharp 'click,' the magazine of her gun slid out into her hand and was tucked into her coat pocket.

It was after some thought this morning that she'd realized his little escapade at the Langham had been necessary. She was not too proud to admit she could've never gotten information out of Anguis in a permissible setting—not when every official in the land seemed to grovel in his wake.

Had Alucard actually came to her with his plan, she would've likely let him go anyway.

Integra's eyes narrowed. Still, it didn't change the fact that he hadn't.

She took out another magazine of normal, copper bullets, loading it into the well and pulling the slide. So she would spare him the silver or the seal. It didn't mean he would go unpunished. Integra had long learned not to let Alucard get away with anything, as all kinds of ideas festered in his head when he did.

As for the other two, there was little doubt they'd been forced to go along with his madness. And while they had caused the most actual damage, Integra decided to let them go.

She had given Blade his orders about Pip over an hour ago after all. And Seras would be suffering plenty as well once night fell. There was no need to make it worse.

No, her only business at the moment was Alucard, as it often was. Integra turned the corner leading to the main staircase, which in turn led to the first floor and basement.

And stopped promptly when she was met with a curious sight.

Two maids were hovering next to the pull-down attic stairs, sending nervous glances up into the dark room.

"Sir Integra!" both girls rushed up, not even batting an eyelash at the gun she was holding, "Oh thank goodness you're here, ma'am."

She stared, confused. "What's wrong?"

The maids sent each other insistent looks, before one of them hesitantly began. "It..It's the vampire, ma'am. The male one. He's been up in the attic since dawn."

Integra's brows disappeared into her hairline. "What?"

The other maid nodded vigorously. "We thought a bit of dusting up there was in order is all," she continued, "But we heard him hissing before we'd barely touched the landing. I thought he'd gotten himself stuck up there, so I offered to guide him out and he snapped at me!"

The girl's face paled at the memory and her companion patted her shoulder in comfort. Integra glanced bemusedly at the attic entrance. It was used primarily as storage for the family archives, along with a few of the rarer books Hellsing had collected over the decades. As she recalled, the whole room was coated in holy water and laced with silver.

What could possess him to go up there?

"I'll deal with him," she assured, dismissing the maids. The two servants curtsied in relief and hurried away. Integra tucked her gun loosely into her holster and ascended the stairs.

She had just reached the landing when the hissing began, low and menacing. It seemed to come from every direction, a chilling, inhuman sound. An automatic shiver ran down Integra's spine, which she ignored with some difficulty.

Squinting slightly, she peered into the room, but it was too dark to see much of anything. Glancing around, she saw a small window near the staircase, its blinds tightly shut. She snapped them open with a tug of the cord.

The hiss instantly choked off into a startled whimper as sunlight flooded into the room. She turned and this time spotted him. Alucard had curled into the darkest corner, back flattened against the wall on instinct. His red eyes were narrowed in distress, near pink from the harsh onslaught of light.

Integra quickly adjusted the blinds to a more forgiving setting, though with still enough light for her to see.

"You great idiot," she muttered, striding across the room to his huddled form, "What are you doing up here?"

It occurred to Integra then that Alucard might've sought the attic in order to hide from her, though she soon dismissed the thought. He knew better than to run and the punishments were never so cruel that he would actively hide from them.

The pale face that gazed up at her was not of fear anyway, but surprise. Books and scrolls were scattered around him in messy piles and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes from the stress and exhaustion of being in the room, having clearly been there for far longer than dawn.

Integra sighed, feeling her resolve beginning to crumble. She kneeled down so they were eye level, peering at some of the covers surrounding them.

"Myths and Magics of the East?" she read, giving him a sardonic look, "I'd think you have more pressing matters to worry about than the different types of Japanese yokai."

Alucard's startled expression faded, replaced by an amused smile. He picked up the aforementioned book, flipping to a particular section before showing it to her. The chapter was titled 'Spellwork and Witchcraft,' with a rather intricate sigil serving as the cover image.

Understanding dawned on Integra. Now that she thought about it, he had mentioned that the witch had stowed away on a Japanese ship.

"Well, I can see she has piqued your interest, if you're willing to go to such lengths just for research," she said eventually, gesturing at the blessed walls and silver crosses scattered about. Alucard shrugged, though it looked strained.

A bit of guilt prodded at Integra, but she steeled herself against it with limited success.

"I was going to go find you, Alucard," she said shortly, "I don't think I need to explain why."

He nodded, smile shrinking into something small and resigned. He moved to stand without protest, though he bent forward with noticeable difficulty.

A cloud of black steam erupted from his form as he literally peeled his back from the wall. Integra's eyes widened in shock. The simple dress-shirt he'd conjured for himself hadn't stood a chance, having been eaten away entirely as if by acid. Strips of tattered cloth hung over his back, which was a painful map of bleeding, blistered flesh, blackened and dead in certain areas. The wounds were already healing, but at a sluggish pace.

It was like someone had tried to set his back on fire.

The last vestiges of Integra's resolve crumbled into the dust. She sighed quietly, stuffing her gun properly back into its holster and snapping the flap shut.

"Sit," she ordered, as she knelt back down, "I'm going to check the restriction levels."

From the corner of her eye, she saw Alucard freeze in surprise, about to push up from the floor. Integra didn't look at him, focusing intently on shifting aside stacks of books in order to make a spot for herself. It was when she could sit down comfortably that she chanced a glance at him, only to find the vampire still staring. A sudden flare of flustered annoyance coursed through her.

"What?" she demanded, gesturing at his mutilated back, "There's hardly any point when you've made a mess of yourself already."

He continued to stare at her for another moment, head cocking slightly to the right. A small, amused smirk rose slowly on his lips.

Integra threw the History of Romania at him. "Stop it. Just come here. Get away from the wall."

Alucard caught the heavy volume with one hand, barely noticing it as he placed it down. The smirk stayed pasted on his face, but he obediently shifted closer, his broader form casting a great shadow over her.

Integra glared, swatting in irritation at the stray locks of his hair tickling her forehead. "It's disturbing how much you enjoy this."

A more wolfish grin appeared and a long, pearly fang was revealed, glinted unnaturally at her. She shook her head; lightly she reached for his hands, touching the back of his gloves with her fingertips.

The seals flared up immediately as they sensed the proximity of Hellsing blood. A crimson glow pulsated through them and washed over the corner of the room. Integra closed her eyes, her mind floating into the murky darkness of the seals.

She passed by levels four, three and two without problem. The restraints and locks were all still in place, though the threads of energy that usually brewed in a tempest there had been blocked off, including the ones Alucard linked with Seras and herself. So, his telepathy was gone then. She couldn't say she was horribly troubled by that.

Level one was also undamaged. Unsurprising, given how he'd traipsed about the Langham with his hound in tow. She would have him go through his shape-shifts later just in case, but it was unlikely there would be problems. Integra almost allowed herself to relax.

Then she reached level zero.

A cold, dead stillness washed over her, sending a shiver down into her core. Nothing.

She couldn't sense even one of the countless souls Alucard had consumed, his squirming myriad of victims. The lock was still there, but nothing laid behind it. It was as if she'd hit a hollow wall, icy and smooth like exposed bone.

_Shit._

Integra snapped open her eyes. Alucard was staring down at his hands, a vague surprise floating about his face.

"If I were to release level zero here," she said, almost idly, "Should I expect anything other than you writhing on the ground in agony?"

The look he gave her said everything. A curl of panic rose up inside Integra, quick and sudden, which she smoothed down with effort. The logical side of her mind knew it made sense. Level zero was a release that required both her permission and a spoken incantation—something Alucard currently lacked ability in.

"Are they still there at least?"

There was a pause, too long for Integra's liking, before he nodded. Alucard brushed against his own throat, fingertips grazing the rooster seal almost concealed by his wild hair. He gazed at her meaningfully.

The message was clear. As long as he remained mute, his souls would be inaccessible. By accepting this one foreign mission, Hellsing had been halved in strength—its greatest weapon compromised.

Something in Integra began to boil, hot with rage.

"One tends to think with all these provocations that a message is trying to be sent," she commented softly, "The French must want war."

Alucard's eyes curved in glee. Even with the haggard shadows beneath them, he still managed to look feral, a jagged knife for a grin. He didn't seem particularly ill at ease with the loss of his greatest power. Rather on the contrary, he looked almost impressed.

Integra pulled away from him, sitting down on a nearby crate and gestured at the surrounding materials. "Have you found anything?"

Somehow, the grin seemed to grow even wider. Alucard leaned backwards on his heels, all grace and fluidity where a human would've toppled like a collapsing tower.

He pulled over a large scroll, deeply yellowed with age and held together by a single weathered green string. With a sharp tug, the knot was loose and the scroll unfurled.

The scent of mold and age drifted up through the air, intensifying the dusty smells already pervading the attic. Integra's brows rose as it stretched across the floor and tumbled to a halt at her feet. Faded characters and symbols were strewn across the fragile parchment, tiny elegant lines of text running vertically down the page. She recognized it after some scrutiny as Japanese, though the mold and mildew of the parchment would've made it illegible even if she had understood a word of it.

"What is this?" she asked blankly.

Alucard slithered over to her left side and pointed at a drawing down toward the corner of the scroll. For a moment, Integra stared at it before her eyes widened.

"My God…" She nearly sprung off the crate, crouching down next to him to get a closer look.

It had the standard shape of a pentacle, though the lines had intricate vines wrapped around them along with tufts of mugworts drawn along the bottom curve of the circle. Two rings of indecipherable symbols were at the center of the pentagram, while the bottom two points were also outlined in the strange characters. But most of that was an afterthought, as her attention was directed to the top three points.

They'd been drawn in the protruding shapes of three skeletons, each in contorted states of pain.

The one on the left had its spindly hands clamped to the sides of its head. The right one's hands were crossed over its exposed jaw. And the middle one had its hands over its face, covering two empty eye sockets.

Integra sent a wild questioning glance at Alucard, who simply nodded as answer. He pointed down at the scroll again, near the margins of the parchment. There, in print so small Integra had to strain even with her glasses on, was a series of English notes.

The script was narrow and without fanfare, and she recognized it almost instantly as Abraham's.

_The curse is real,_ it read, _A perverse interpretation of the renown maxim of the Asian continent. Merchant was clueless about its true nature. Translations indicate it originates in the magic of certain Japanese demons. Victims are left blinded, deafened and voiceless._

_Potential motivations include the obvious such as weakened prey. However, it appears the curse does not actually inflict any physical destruction of the senses. Rather, it is the very essences of 'sight' 'sound' and 'voice' that are taken from the victim by the caster._

_One can only guess what such pure energies would be used for, though certain creatures do find them sources of nourishment. My studies have shown eyes, tongues and ears are also prime ingredients used by witches for complex transformation spells. There exists a third possibility as well, which I personally find the most intriguing…_

The last line was almost too faded to read and Integra nearly had to press her nose to the floor, ignoring Alucard's amused smirk.

_…it seems the energies can be stolen and effectively 'transported,' granting the once blind new sight, the deaf sound, and the mute voice. A dark miracle for sure, though fascinating. Further text was too murky for complete understanding. Has potential though. If more translations can be done, should run test trial on A._

A bitter scoff came from Alucardat the last part, though Integra was too busy soaking in all of the new information. Assuming this was the curse that had started everything (and what ridiculous luck if it was), this would mean solid progress towards breaking it.

"So she's bottled up your voice and shipped it off somewhere?" she mused out loud, "I can't imagine a monster so charitable."

Alucard tilted his head curiously, a question clear in his tired eyes. _How are you sure she hasn't simply consumed it herself?_

"It wouldn't achieve anything," she replied, "Even if she's somehow alive, it must be by a thread. At the very least, her physical body has been destroyed. It would be smarter to 'transport' them and have her beneficiaries do whatever she can't."

It was a nightmare all on its own, Integra knew that. Most humans were weak to the prospect of power and she could only imagine what would happen if Seras's eyes ended up in the wrong hands.

And there was also something else that bothered her.

"Why does the curse seal look nothing like what's indicated here?" she questioned, glancing pointedly at the three skulls and then at the rooster etched into Alucard's throat.

The vampire shook his head and shrugged. While most of the attic's shelves had been practically overturned, he clearly hadn't been able to find any further answers. Integra would've liked to check over the untouched ones, but one look at Alucard told her he was nearing his limit.

Deepening lines of fatigue were visible on his face and his eyes were now a washed-out red. The burn on his back had stopped attempting to heal itself.

Integra stood, swiftly rolling up the scroll and tucking it in the crook of her arm. "Let's go. Our first priority will be to track down the three recipients."

Alucard rose eagerly, his footsteps silent and graceful despite how exhausted he looked. She let him glide past her and hurry down the stairs.

His back began stitching itself together with renewed vigor as they left the holy essences of the attic. And despite the sun-soaked hallway, a brief flash of relief crossed his face. Integra descended at a calmer, slower pace, holding the large but frail scroll carefully.

Her mind, however, was racing with what needed to be done next, when Walter suddenly turned the corner.

"Sir Integra!" he called, nearly skidding as he hurried toward them. He paused briefly to stare in confusion at Alucard, but didn't ask.

"Oh, I've been looking everywhere for you, Ma'am!"

Integra's slender brows arched at the butler's flustered state. "What's happened?"

"A messenger just arrived from Buckingham Palace," Walter explained, slipping the letter from his vest, "Her Majesty has requested a private meeting with you this afternoon."


	15. Chapter 15

"The Queen?" Integra repeated, taking the letter, "Why?"

"I wasn't informed, but I assume it's for what happened at the negotiations."

Integra sighed, "She wants me to change my mind then."

She'd had a suspicion this would happen despite fervently hoping otherwise. Walter shrugged helplessly. Alucard stifled a yawn.

"Alright." Integra handed the scroll to Walter, who accepted it with only a faintly puzzled look.

"I want this translated Walter, preferably the portions up top, though whatever is legible will do. Some history on its origins would also be appreciated."

"Of course."

She nodded her thanks. "Alucard."

The vampire looked up vaguely at her from where he was still waiting to be dismissed.

"You did well. Go rest."

He bowed, having never looked so genuinely grateful, and dissolved through the floor. Walter stared in confusion at the spot where he'd been, but Integra didn't stop to explain. She was already speed-walking past him back toward her office, intending to make a sizeable dent in her paperwork before noon.

"I need results by tonight," she called, "We're going to have our own little meeting."

\---

At 12:00 sharp, Integra's driver pulled up at the front of Buckingham Palace, a vast mansion of pale-gray stone surrounded by beautiful gardens and fountains. A smiling, congenial young servant was already waiting behind the gates. He politely bowed as she stepped from the car and insisted on carrying the briefcase she'd brought along, before ushering her through the grand, double doors.

To her surprise, she was led past the throne room, where official meetings with the Queen were usually conducted and taken to a small, but quaint sitting room instead. Sunlight filtered softly in through the laced curtains, washing the cozy furnishings in pale gold.

Near the fireplace were two beige couches, with a polished coffee table between them. An old woman was seated there, hands folded neatly in her lap.

"Sir Hellsing," she greeted with a smile.

Integra straightened and bowed respectfully. "Your Majesty."

"Oh, do come over. …Sit, sit, it has been such a long time. Aaron, bring us some tea and cakes please."

The servant nodded in acquiescence, exiting the room as Integra sat down. She placed her briefcase at the side of her feet in plain view.

The old woman sent a knowing glance at it.

"My, you have arrived with your battle armor on," she noted, somewhat sadly, before sighing, suddenly looking very tired.

"I will not waste your time with inane chatter, Integra. In short, I believe I owe you an apology," the queen said, "We reached an agreement, President Duval and I, that Lord Anguis would lead the operation. That was a mistake."

Integra blinked, caught by complete surprise.

"Your Majesty—"

She was quieted by a thin, wrinkled hand.

"It was your organization and your agents," the woman continued, "You should have been in charge. And besides…" A faint smile here. "I remember how Alucard is. It was not my place to send him."

Integra's eyes widened.

"We remain your humble servants to command as you see fit, Your Majesty—Alucard included," she reassured hurriedly, "He was perfectly behaved in France. There were no issues reported regarding him."

The queen's smile widened slightly, though it didn't look any less apologetic. Integra didn't like it at all.

"I wouldn't expect there to be. He's not an animal after all—I'm sure he knows when to show restraint."

There was a pause in her next words that almost resembled hesitation.

"It's merely that he is a different sort of creature, isn't he? ...Too different in some ways. And I must admit, it leaves me to wonder about his actions in France."

Integra stared at her. A cold feeling settled in her stomach.

"My apologies, but I don't quite understand what you mean."

It was blunter than she'd meant it to be, though the queen just sighed again.

"I will be frank with you," she said shortly, "Lord Anguis has caused an exceptional fuss about these missing artifacts and my advisors are concerned it will eventually become a problem. However, with that disaster at the Langham last night, I simply do not have the time to carefully consider this matter."

Her old eyes settled on Integra's.

"So I have decided to support Hellsing's side of the story without investigation," her face softened slightly, "For your family's loyalty and faithfulness to the Crown, I believe you deserve the benefit of the doubt."

Then her mouth suddenly flattened into a serious line, all traces of elderly frailty vanishing.

"And that is why you must be truthful with me, Integra."

The room began to dim as the clouds outside drifted lazily across the sun. The queen's eyes shined like hardened steel in the soft shadows, pinning Integra to her seat.

"Did he take anything from that castle?"

"No," Integra said promptly, knowing better than to hesitate, "He did not."

The queen nodded once. "And the girl? Could she have taken anything?"

Integra paused; the thought hadn't even occurred to her, though the idea that Seras had succumbed to temptation when Alucard hadn't was almost laughable.

"No, she's very young. Shine doesn't attract her yet."

And God pity the poor fool who'd deal with it when it did.

The queen simply nodded again, not looking particularly satisfied or suspicious. She regarded her calmly, with the measured countenance of an old ruler.

Integra struggled to hold her gaze, though it was a lost battle from the start. Even if part of her knew it was ridiculous to be so anxious.

It wasn't as though she was lying.

While Alucard's word was all she had, she knew he'd be guarding his room like a dragon's trove by now if he'd really taken something. And for all his vampiric skill in deceit, he was surprisingly bad at lying about such serious things.

With her confidence renewed, Integra sat a little straighter.

Whether the queen noticed or not, she gave no indication, but her gaze did soften.

"Very well," she said, just as the clouds crawled away, flooding the room with sunlight again, "I trust you. Forgive me, it is just that the Council has voiced their concerns before. And Lord Anguis and President Duval have both been rather…insistent."

Integra sneered internally. It was more than clear now something important had been hidden at the castle, though what it could possibly be was beyond her.

A part of her even wondered if it had anything to do with the curse, though she wasn't sure if that was connecting too far a dot.

The most plausible scenario she could think of to make sense of any of this was that there actually had been artifacts hidden in the castle, perhaps something stolen or smuggled in. The place was then unexpectedly taken over by monsters and in their desperation, the French had manipulated Hellsing into getting rid of them, covering up their secret with misinformation.

Only because of those faked reports, Integra hadn't bothered to tell Alucard to be delicate and the entire castle burned to the ground instead. Now in order to hide their own incompetence, the French were throwing accusations around.

Integra's eyes narrowed slightly. It made plenty of sense and filled in a lot of holes—big ones such as Anguis's sudden accusation and the incorrect reports.

And yet it still felt wrong. Like something was missing.

The woman. Why did they say she was a vampire?

'Clink'

Integra startled, nearly jolting from her seat. The same servant as before had returned, and had placed a silver tea tray down on the coffee table.

"Lemon scone, Sir Hellsing?" he asked, smiling cheerily.

"Oh, do try them, my dear," the queen encouraged, "Aaron adds the most delightful-tasting cream to it. It is absolutely heavenly."

Aaron bowed in thanks, looking rather pleased, and Integra was handed a bright yellow scone nearly dripping with pink cream. She accepted with awkward thanks, trying not to stare too much at it.

"Now then," the queen said, visibly happier as she took a bite out of her own scone, "With the end of that unpleasant business, we can continue. Do you know the main reason for why I have asked you here, Integra?"

"I assume it concerns my response," she replied simply.

"Correct as always, my dear. Taking into account the potential benefits of this offer, I am merely interested in your reasons for declining. Rest assured, I'm not trying to have you reconsider."

Which means you are. Integra stifled a sigh and reached for the teacup settled in front of her.

This was going to take a while.

\---

**6:30pm**

\---

"Ow! Bloody…" Seras muttered a curse beneath her breath, rubbing her poor throbbing ankle.

With great annoyance, she stepped carefully around whatever obstacle had been in her way, only to nearly crash into something else.

"Ugh!" Seras threw her hands up, ready to accept her fate and sink to the floor.

It'd been almost half an hour since she'd woken up and most of it had been spent trying to get out of her own room.

Due to some delusional sense of security wrought by her first trip down here for clothes, she'd foregone using the wall as a guide and had in the process discovered two things she would've been better off knowing beforehand.

One, her closet had actually been located much closer to the door than she'd realized.

Two, her room was filled with all sorts of unneeded crap.

"If this ever ends…" she swore to herself, straightening again, "If this ever ends, I'm going to do some redecorating. Maybe something a little more Master-esque. Much easier. Just my coffin and a chair. So the next time I get blinded by some crazy witch lady I can at least walk through my own room…"

Seras breathed deeply to relax herself, resolving to make one final attempt before giving up entirely.

With great caution, she took three small steps, hands raised uselessly in front of her. Then three more. Then another three.

_This isn't so bad. Maybe I'm almost at the door._

Growing slightly more confident, Seras took a more decent-sized step.

And promptly tripped over her own feet.

With a shriek, she toppled over, unable to catch herself. Her hands flew forward in a panic, trying to brace against the wall. Only to find it had suddenly vanished.

Seras's eyes popped in surprise and she had just registered an icy, shivery feeling prickle through her body before she slammed down face-first into something hard.

"Ow…"

Groaning, she lifted herself onto her elbows and shook her head slightly to clear the stars. The surface beneath her was cool and smooth, though with edges. As she moved to pick herself up completely, her fingers caught what felt like neat curves and grooves upon the surface.

Seras blinked, tracing one of the indentations carefully. She came up with an 'H' right before recognizing the scent of grave dirt in the air.

"Oh, bollocks."

Whatever was beneath her slammed upwards without warning. Seras screamed and flailed as she was lifted entirely into the air. With another crash, she landed on her face again, this time on the cold stone floor.

"Ooowww…" Seras moaned, rubbing her forehead, which had taken the brunt of the impact.

Behind her, there was a rustling of cloth and the echoing sound of footsteps before a large hand was suddenly around her upper arm, lifting her roughly to her feet.

_What are you doing here?_ Her master's immensely displeased voice boomed in her head.

Seras blushed, feeling embarrassed, confused and frightened all at once.

"I-I don't know. I mean, I didn't mean to, Master—I…were you sleeping? I'm so sorry, there were all these things in my room, I never knew I was such a pack rat—"

_Why were you on my coffin?_ Alucard cut in simply.

Seras winced; so that had been his coffin. Her master had always been a touch OCD when it came to his eternal resting place, though it seemed to vary randomly in intensity. He'd allow Walter to dust it on one day and then lunge at him for an idle glance the next. He'd let visitors touch it occasionally, but snarled at anyone who so much as mentioned it in passing.

Needless to say, it was definitely one of his more baffling if not terrifying quirks.

And she had pretty much just body-slammed into it.

"I was trying to find a way out of my room," she explained hastily, her cheeks coloring, "I tripped and tried to catch myself on the wall, but um, ended up here instead."

_The wall?_ Alucard repeated, sounding strangely more surprised than angry.

"Y-Yes, I tripped, I couldn't—" She paused mid-word.

Her master's anger had suddenly evaporated; the oppressive, terror-inducing heat of his rage vanishing into a wisp of breath. She could almost feel his grin as it stretched across his face and her uneasiness grew ten-fold.

_So you've done it then._

"D…Done what?"

_Phased through,_ Alucard replied, finally releasing his merciless grip on her, _About time. I was beginning to think you were defective._

Seras rubbed her arm in confusion, before suddenly recalling the weird feeling that had pulsed through her right before she'd ended up in his room.

"Oh my god…" It suddenly clicked. "I went through the wall."

_Yes,_ her master agreed with notable pride. In a rare show of affection, she felt his hand pat her lightly on the head. Seras smiled, her heart soaring up to the clouds despite herself.

Do it again.

And 'splat' onto the pavement.

"What?!"

_I didn't get to see it,_ Alucard said, almost in a sulking tone, like he'd just missed her first few steps.

"B-But that was an accident. I don't know how to—"

She was saved from further explanation when the basement door suddenly screeched opened. Two pairs of footsteps began plodding their way down the stairs and into the corridor.

"You sure you know the right room?" one voice asked, clearly anxious.

"For Christ's sake, yes, I'm sure," the other answered, exasperated, "Like I've been sure the first five times you've asked. The Cap'em comes down here a lot. He told me, the fifth room is hers. The sixth one is his."

Seras swiveled to stare in the direction of the voices, hearing Alucard do the same. The footsteps came to a halt outside her door.

She moved toward Alucard's door as they began knocking, only for her master to grab her wrist.

_What do you think you're doing?_

"Um, answering them?"

_Interesting, because they seem to be knocking on your door. And I'd rather not have my final resting place continuously displayed to the entire estate.  
_  
Seras withheld the urge to remark on how there wasn't exactly much to display.

"Well, what am I suppose to do then? I'm sort of stranded in here."

_Stop thinking like a human,_ was Alucard's only chastisement.

She sighed, knowing what he meant. "Master, I told you, it was an acci—"

"Victoria," the braver of the two men called, "Open up, we've got express orders from the Boss."

_Oh, that sounds urgent,_ her master noted gleefully, _Better hurry._

Seras levelled a scowl at him, but resignedly stomped to the wall. She planted both palms out like before, only to feel solid stone beneath them. Her fingers fumbled and dug into the mortar, as if expecting a secret passageway to suddenly open up. She even tried pushing the wall, though all that accomplished was a soft, breathless snicker from Alucard.

"Master," she whined, finally dropping her hands, "I _can't_ , I don't know how to—AH!"

Her complaint shriveled into a scream as Alucard suddenly shoved her forward. The same shivery feeling enveloped her for a second, before she found herself landing into a pile of plush toys back in her own room.

_Huh, so it only works on an instinctual level,_ Alucard remarked, phasing through after her, though he sounded amused.

Seras scrambled to her feet, glaring, cheeks slightly puffed in annoyance. But she wasted no time yelling at him, stumbling and crashing towards the door instead, where the knocks had just stopped.

"Do you think she's sleeping?"

"Probably, such a shame guess we'll have to come back later—"

"Wait, wait," Seras panted, yanking open the door, "Sorry, I'm here. Did you need me?"

One of the men yelped, but the other one spoke in relief. Seras's ears perked as she recognized the voice as Silford's, Pip's lieutenant.

"Ah, there you are, missy! We almost thought you wouldn't answer. You remember Benson here right? I…oh! S-Sir, you're here too?" Silford said, ending the sentence more like a question. He tried not to stare as Alucard glided up behind Seras. The guy was only in a pair of trousers and a white unbuttoned dress shirt.

Benson squeaked, a bead of cold sweat running down from his blonde hair. They both took in Seras's bedraggled state for the first time.

"Uh," Silford began, mortified, "I-if this is a bad time, we can just…"

"No, not at all," Seras answered obliviously, straightening her skirt, "So sorry about that. We were having a bit of a…problem."

She glared over her shoulder at Alucard, who simply grinned wolfishly. The door swung open a bit wider, revealing a room that had been almost torn to shreds. The men stared.

"Oh, Jesus," Benson murmured, turning on his heel. Silford grabbed him.

"U-um, right, well the Boss wants you at the firing range, Victoria."

Seras tilted her head curiously, but nodded. "Of course."

"Yes, yes," Benson muttered, still gazing nervously at Alucard, "Let's move along then, we're so sorry for disturbing you, Sir, we—"

"Actually," Silford suddenly interrupted, he was gazing at the older vampire with an uneasy, but also considering look now, "We could use your help, Sir."

Seras's eyes widened in shock, while his partner's nearly popped out of his skull. Even Alucard looked somewhat surprised.

"What?!" his partner shrieked, forgetting himself entirely.

"No one else can do the four thousand meters anyway," Silford snapped, before turning back to Alucard, "All you have to do is shoot that distance mark. What do you say?"

He tried smiling encouragingly, but miserably failed halfway. It was all he could do not to shiver as those red eyes floated across him. Run, some deep primal part of him kept saying, RUN.

After what seemed like an eternity, Alucard gave a slight, amused nod and Silford released the relieved breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

"Thank you, Sir."

"Um, just wondering," Seras spoke up, noticeably more nervous now that her master was getting involved, "What exactly am I going to be doing at the firing range?"

"We're helping you adjust," Silford replied, gratefully turning to her.

"Adjust? To what?"

The look he gave her was of unfortunate pity. He pulled forward the strap that'd been looped across his shoulder, revealing the shiny muzzle of a rifle.

"To being blind."

\---

**7:30pm**

\---

_There were two voices at the surface again. One of them a man this time._

_It didn't much like men. Too much muscle and testosterone soured the flesh. They never screamed as much either._

_At least the other was a woman._

_"Why'd you have to bring around that dumpy lil' sister of yours, Tilly?" the man was complaining, "She fuckin' kills the mood."_

_"It's hardly my fault, David. My mum made me drag her along. Anyway, she can just sit on the beach out there. Don't even look at her."_

_"Heh, I wasn't planning to."_

_Their legs twined as they treaded water and It could smell it then. La Mer was being defiled._

_It reached for them, curling up their thighs. The woman giggled, "Naughty one, aren't you?"_

_"Funny that, I was going to say the same to you."_

_It pulled them under._

_A few seconds later, It was pleasantly surprised._

_The man screamed even louder than the woman did._

\---

Pip jolted up in his seat as a hand suddenly clapped his shoulder. For a moment, all he saw was blood in the water and white panic gripped him. He spun wildly to his left, only to nearly collide foreheads with Will, who quickly leaned backwards.

"Whoa," he raised his hands in placation, "Easy, easy, are you alright?"

And suddenly, the walls of the Hellsing rec room reformed before Pip, the glow of the television screen replacing the rippling sun piercing down into the waves.

"Captain Bernadotte?" Will was insisting, moving to look directly at him.

He was speaking slowly, moving his lips deliberately to form the words, though Pip still had a hard time concentrating on them. Screams echoed in his deaf ears, already fading away.

"Fine, I'm fine," he muttered, pushing the younger man back a little, "It was nothing."

Will didn't looked convinced at all. Pip didn't blame him. The occasional, vivid nightmare was nothing special, not with the way he lived, but anything reoccurring had him concerned. He was also pretty damn sure dreams didn't pick up right where they'd left off like that.

And those screams…they sounded so real.

With a haggard sigh, he collapsed backwards against the sofa, mopping a hand over his pale face. Maybe he was just having a belated meltdown. Wouldn't be surprising, considering what's happened in the last few days; he was only human after all. Though he would think the contents of trauma-induced nightmares would be a little more personal. When was the last time he even went to the beach anyway?

Will shifted uncomfortably next to him, pulling Pip from his worries. He was fiddling around with a VHS tape. Pip scowled, suddenly remembering what he'd been doing in the rec room in the first place.

"God, you sure took your time," he criticized, annoyed.

The younger man gave him a confused look.

"I was only gone for ten minutes."

Pip's heart skipped a beat. Only ten minutes? "What?"

"You must have been very tired if you fell asleep waiting."

He didn't feel tired at all. 

"Never mind," he said, officially unnerved, "What were you looking for anyway?"

Instead of answering, Will walked up to the television, slipping the tape into the ancient VCR. The screen fizzled.

The first thing Pip saw when it cleared was an old woman in pearls and silk painting the nails of a Bichon Frise. Pip stared at Will, who at least had the courtesy to look apologetic.

"It's the only video I could find where the words aren't slurred so badly," he mouthed hurriedly, signing as well for good measure.

"I'll bet," Pip muttered, deeply cynical, but leaned forward to study the screen regardless, "Same deal as last time then?"

He was given a nod. Pip swallowed his sigh and focused on the woman's mouth, reading out her gushing diatribe in his flattest tone. Parts where he erred or couldn't make out the words were rewound by Will and he was then forced to do the whole clip over again.

While a couple of mistakes were still made and Will was extremely serious the entire time, Pip was damn proud of himself. Compared to just this morning when he'd been tripping over every other word, this was great progress.

When they got through the video, Will rewound back to the beginning again before turning to Pip.

NOW-DO-IT-WITH-SIGN. His hands moved with fluid grace and Pip wouldn't have processed it if it hadn't been the same message he'd been seeing for the past thirteen hours.

He groaned mentally, but did his best to stumble through the signs without argument. As weirdly naïve and upbeat as Will was, the kid was a complete hardass when it came to teaching him this stuff, though he supposed that's why Integra chose him in the first place.

He'd been beating him over the head all day with basic vocabularies and lip-reading cues. Pip couldn't even understand why he needed to learn sign at all when he could speak just fine, but was too cowardly to bring it up.

"Where'd you learn any of this anyway?" he asked, after finally finishing the lesson, "Is it required by SAS?"

Will shook his head and a deep softness flooded his eyes. But before he could reply, something very strange happened to Pip.

One moment there was nothing in front of him but the telescreen, where the old lady was ordering nylon stockings for her dog, and the next Alucard was suddenly sauntering right by his face.

Pip's heart leaped straight up his throat and almost out of his mouth. There might've been some strangled screaming that occurred as well, though he of course couldn't hear it himself.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a shocked Will catapult from the sofa like it had bitten him.

"Mr. Alucard?!"

Alucard looked back idly, as if he hadn't even noticed there were people in the room. When he saw Pip though, he turned around, revealing two rocket launchers tucked neatly beneath his arm like a couple of library books. Slowly, his lips parted, displaying rows of razor teeth in a wide, happy grin.

It was the most terrifying thing Pip had ever laid eyes upon.

And it was in the stunned, horrified silence that reigned afterwards that one of his men came staggering in as well.

Pip's eye nearly rolled out of its socket when he recognized the bright blonde hair. That was the last person he expected to be with Alucard. "Benson?!"

The name had barely left his mouth before his friend had practically jumped into his arms. Pip scrambled backwards, less out of surprise and more out of the fact that there were five assault rifles dangling off the man's back.

"Captain! _Captain!_ " he was crying, clawing at his arm and nearly on the brink of actual tears. He went on to babble more, but his lips were moving so fast Pip couldn't understand a word beyond the first two.

"Wait, _what_ —calm the hell down, Benson!"

Next to him, Alucard, having lost all interest, turned away again and continued out of the room. Pip was just about to shove his friend off when Benson's jaw suddenly snapped shut, so violently he could almost imagine the click of his teeth.

The man sent a wild look after the trailing red trenchcoat and then back at Pip. A decision was apparently made in that time span, since the next thing Pip knew he was being dragged out after Alucard.

Benson's mouth began moving at lightning speeds again and for a few moments, Pip just walked with him, his own mouth slightly agape, brain unable to register any of the things that'd just happened.

It was only after Will had hurried up next to him, hands signing manically that Pip understood even an iota of what was going on.

OH-MY-GOD JESUS-CHRIST HE'S-FUCKING-INSANE ACTUALLY-INSANE HE'S-GOING-TO-BLAST-APART-THE-FUCKING-MOUNTAIN


	16. Chapter 16

\---  
 **7:34 pm**  
___

Pip had barely been pulled through the door onto the firing range, when his entire squad seemed to materialize before him, all in similar states of babbling incoherency.

"Okay, okay," he muttered, awkwardly patting a few of them on the shoulder, "Calm down. What the hell's going on?"

Before anyone could actually explain, Alucard suddenly breezed into view again. The men flinched, visibly drawing closer to Pip as if he could somehow protect them.

Fortunately for him, none of them were even given a glance. Alucard past by like seeing thirteen grown men clinging to each other was just part of his day, and distractedly fiddled with the massive warhead in his hands. Color steadily leeched from Pip's face.

The men turned back to him as the vampire disappeared around the corner, eyes filled with hope, as if he was their long-awaited savior. Pip didn't have the heart to tell them that given the possibility Alucard had actually cracked, he was the last person who could do anything about it.

Instead, he hurried around the corner after him—the men following like a herd of sheep.

The range was lighted by a row of huge floodlights, and by a moment of coincidence (which would've been hysterical if everyone wasn't so terrified) one of them was shining down on Alucard like a spotlight. Only instead of poignant soliloquies or dramatic monologues about God and death, he was screwing a warhead onto an RPG.

A terrified Silford was standing a few feet away from Alucard, face sallow, while Seras stood a bit closer, though she looked like she didn't know whether to try to talk to her master or run away screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Oi," Pip hissed, grabbing his lieutenant, who jumped violently, "What's going on?"

"Cap'em! Shit, I think I really cocked up!"

He blinked, "What happened?"

Silford took a deep breath to calm himself, though it didn't seem to help much. He barely noticed when Pip, suddenly realizing he would probably need some interpretation, waved Will over hurriedly.

"Ok, please keep in mind that I just thought the big guy would be better at the four thousand meters than anyone else and you know, she being his woman and everything we didn't want…"

___

_One hour earlier…_

\---  
"So that's all the Boss said we had to do." Silford finished explaining.

"Oh, that's all is it?" Seras repeated, voice quickly devolving into a shriek, "I JUST HAVE TO STAND OUT THERE WHILE YOU BLAST ME FULL OF LEAD BUT THAT'S ALL!"

Silford winced, while a few of the Geese gathered around chuckled. "The idea is for you to start using sound and scent more."

"And the best way for me to do that is to _dodge bullets?!_ "

"Well…it's not like they would kill you."

Seras's blind eyes bulged. "You-!"

Whatever profanity she was about to let spew was cut off when a pair of gloved hands suddenly reached out and grabbed her. Alucard's grin was broad and eager as he unceremoniously threw her over his shoulder. Without a glance at any of them, he began making his way onto the field, a suddenly mortified Seras beating at his back to no avail.

When he reached the designated mark, he set her down. They seemed to have a bit of a one-way argument as Seras gesticulated wildly, while Alucard just stared at her. Then he suddenly poked both of her eyes, before poking the center of her forehead. Whatever the gesture meant, it seemed to silence Seras almost immediately. There was a bit more staring though, before Silford saw Seras's shoulders sag and Alucard lean back, satisfied.

_Captain, you poor bastard…_ Silford thought, shaking his head, before turning triumphantly to Benson.

"See? Told you askin' him along was a good idea. How were any of us actually going to get her onto the field seeing she hates the idea so much?"

"Oh, is Benny bein' all paranoid again?" one of the men asked, "Big Red ain't so bad. The Captain's practically friends with 'im."

"And I still think he's crazy for it," Benson retorted.

"Aw, quit being a little bitch, Benson," someone else called.  
"I'm just saying!" Benson snapped, "We don't know how to handle this guy. What if something goes wrong?"

It was cliché and tempting fate, but Silford shrugged and said it anyway, "What could go wrong?"

After about forty minutes, they found out exactly what.

Everything went pretty smoothly for a while as the men circled through shooting with the five rifles. They were mostly quiet, save for shouting encouragement at Seras, since despite their jokes, they all genuinely wanted to help her. Even Seras, who could only stumble around and scream at the beginning, had started getting into the rhythm of the training.

It began when they finally turned the shooting over to Alucard, who actually had to take over at three thousand meters since the men were practically as blind as Seras by then. Silford watched in amazement as the little dot on the horizon twisted and turned, avoiding every bullet. If there was any lingering skepticism amongst them that the blue-eyed, cute little blonde was a vampire it was all gone now. No human could move at those speeds.

It was turning out to be a pretty successful idea and Silford was feeling rather good about himself.

Then those rocks came along. After realizing Alucard's dead-eye accuracy was a lot harder to dodge than the Geese's random shooting from earlier, Seras began seeking sanctuary behind a pile of nearby rocks.

Alucard was disapproving. After a few minutes of looking increasingly disappointed, he suddenly reached into his coat and pulled out the biggest gun Silford had ever seen in his life. It was jet black and the fact that Alucard actually bothered to first drive Seras away from the rocks should've said everything about its power.

Before anyone could react, he fired.

The rocks exploded into a million chunks. Some of the men yelped and Benson actually dove for cover. Silford's eyes were wide, almost certain at least one of his eardrums had burst from the _cannon_ that'd just gone off next to him.

In the distance, Seras had assumed the fetal position. When she realized she wasn't in smithereens, she stood and began furiously screaming at them—a rather calm reaction considering she had no idea what'd even happened. This seemed to satisfy Alucard somehow though, since he put away the monstrous gun.

He was about to bring up the rifle again when suddenly, his whole body stiffened.

Silford blinked in surprise, turning to the other men for help, but they were all still in various stages of shock.

"Uh…" he craned his neck toward the vampire, not entirely comfortable with actually moving forward, "Sir? Everything oka—"

Alucard vanished, the rifle dropping with a loud 'clack' on the ground and by sheer luck, didn't go off. For a moment, Silford stared dumbly at it before one of the men shouted and pointed into the distance.

Alucard's tall silhouette had appeared a few meters away from a startled Seras. He ignored her completely though, intent on one of the rock shards on the ground that he eventually crouched down and picked up. After a moment's hesitation, Seras inched over to him. Cautiously, they saw her reach out to touch one of the shards as well, only to immediately flinch away as if burned.

Then she turned to Alucard, staring for a moment, before suddenly launching herself at him, trying to wrestle away the one in his hands. Silford's jaw hit the floor.

"…am I seeing this?" someone asked softly.

A blink later, both vampires had disappeared from the horizon and popped back into existence near the men, sending most of them scrabbling off the benches. Seras was still pulling ineffectually at Alucard's arm, but the latter barely seemed to notice her, still staring at the shard in his hand.

"Master, you can't!" Seras was panicking, "It's silver, remember? _The thing that burns our skin off?_ Let it go!"

Instantly, the men all perked up, no one hearing anything beyond the word 'silver.' 

Despite himself, Silford crept forward, wanting a better look. It certainly was a pretty damn shiny rock that was for sure. …Actually too shiny.

"Relax, missy," Silford sighed, "It's just pyrite."

In perfect sync again, the Geese drooped, while Seras froze, turning to him.

"What? But it burned me!"

"It only has small amounts of silver in it," Silford replied, trying not to sound too disappointed.

Indeed, Alucard looked like he didn't even feel it and his crimson eyes gazed down at the rock as if bewitched. In hindsight, things were already out of hand by then and Silford would never, ever understand why he chose to say what he did at that moment.

"There's probably pyrite in most of this mountainside."

Despite being blind, Seras somehow glared directly at him. The sheer homicidal intensity in it was enough to make him instantly regret his words.

"Er," he tried to backtrack, unsure what he'd said wrong, but immediately feeling like he had said something very wrong, "I-I mean—"

Alucard turned away, silencing him without making a sound. With a curl of his finger, he motioned over the closest man to him, which happened to be Benson.

Silford sweated slightly as his friend turned a grayish pale color, but hurried over. He was barely in time to catch all five assault rifles that were suddenly thrust at him. The men exchanged confused, but uneasy glances. Seras just buried her face in her hands.

The lesson was over.

\---

"Are you a fucking idiot?" Pip yelled, smacking Silford across the head.

"Ow! I know, I know, alright. How was I supposed to know he has a thing for shiny stuff?"

"Were you even listening to the Boss's briefing on him?"

"What briefing? She gave you a briefing?! Why didn't you tell the rest of us?"

"I did!" Pip snapped, before scratching his head, "Or wait, I planned on it…Anyway, it doesn't matter now! Go get the Boss before he actually fires that damn thing."

He pushed past his lieutenant, making towards Alucard and Seras, before turning around again.

"And she's _not_ his," he informed pointedly, "Woman, I mean. She's not his woman."

Pip stomped off without waiting for a reply.

\---

Alucard could hardly understand anything Seras was saying to him. She was panicking again, which was a routine hobby of hers, though his attention was too dim to process over what.

At the moment, most of his focus was directed towards obsessive staring. Alucard was an old creature. He had seen all the snowy peaks and lost cities and ancient waterfalls that dotted this world and in his own opinion, seeing one meant seeing them all.

But not this.

It was probably the most beautiful thing Alucard had ever laid eyes upon. So shiny… To think he'd spent all those centuries gathering gold when paradise lay right beneath his enslaved feet.

He would need to remind himself not to eat whoever had told him this wonderful piece of information. Come to think of it, what had he even been doing here again anyway?

Oh well, he was sure it didn't matter.

"…thought about that? Master, are you listening?"

_Hmm?_ He muttered distractedly.

Seras looked ready to tear her hair out.

"Please, don't," she said, "Master, please, please, think about what's going to happen if you do this."

Alucard contemplated it a moment, but couldn't really think of anything in the wake of his excitement. Perhaps the mountain would be missing a piece or two by the end, but it's not as if it wouldn't have eroded away on its own eventually anyway. He's personally watched it happen before.

_More. I get more. It's mine. Don't try to weasel your way into it._ He paused a moment, _Well, maybe if you drink your blood regularly for the next few decades. Then I suppose I can spare you a piece._

A small, shriveled whimper escaped Seras's throat. He assumed it was from sheer ecstasy.

There was an awkward cough from behind them. Pip stood there, looking rather uneasy.

"Er, guys?"

"Captain!" Seras whirled around, grabbing him by the shoulder.

"Please tell me someone has gone to call Sir Integra," she hissed, as if Alucard couldn't hear her that way, "I've been stalling for as long as I can, but he's really lost it this time."

Alucard's eyes narrowed. Master? Why were they calling Master? Were they going to force him to share? IT WAS HIS.

Pip said something back, but Alucard didn't bother to listen. He turned to glare out into the horizon. New plan. He'd take as many as he could while he could.

Alucard drew up the rocket launcher, ignoring the collective screams that rang out behind him. Puny dogs, thinking they could steal from him. He slid his finger against the trigger, grinning like a madman. _Mineminemineminemineminemine—_

"ALUCARD!"

\---

Integra was definitely having one of _those_ days.

After spending the entire afternoon at Buckingham Palace, parrying the Queen's incessant questions and sustaining only on tea and scones, she had returned in the late evening wanting nothing more than some solitude and a decent meal.

Instead, she had barely taken three steps into her house before Pip's lieutenant suddenly accosted her in the hallway, rambling about pyrite and RPGs.

Integra sighed as she ran toward the firing range, checking her pocket to make sure the document was still there. Thankfully, she had at least had the foresight to have it made in case this ever happened.

Still, she really had to do something about Alucard's little disorder and soon. It was one of a few of his behavioral quirks that couldn't be threatened or bribed out of him. Her predecessors had simply forced away the behavior by using the seal, so there was no helpful information in any of their notes either.

In truth, it was a small miracle collapsing the mountain was all he wanted to do.

Integra pushed open the range doors, just in time to see Alucard aim a rocket launcher at the mountainside, face utterly deranged.

"ALUCARD!"

Everyone, excluding Alucard, jumped a clean foot into the air.

The latter just turned reluctantly, features blank though she could see the annoyance crackling in his eyes.

Well that was too goddamn bad.

"Leave," she snapped, and there was a mad scrambling of feet to obey her.

Pip and Seras hurried by last, anxious expressions on their faces. A part of Integra was pleased to see how well Seras could move without anyone to guide her. At least the training had been effective.

As soon as the doors shut, Integra stormed up to Alucard, glare in full force.

"Put that down."

His arm lowered slightly, but he didn't relinquish his hold on the weapon. His face was carefully smooth of emotion, but she could already tell he was going to give her a hard time.

Integra swallowed another angry sigh and reached into her pocket.

"Here," she said, brandishing the sheet of paper at him. When he didn't take it, she rolled her eyes and pulled it back.

"It's a map," she explained, pointing at the image, "There was a geological survey done of the mountain fifty years ago. The map shows all the rocks up here are made of a combination of sandstone and shale."

She made sure to look him in the eye for the next part. He was prone to letting it sail over his head otherwise.

"There is no pyrite, Alucard. What you found was a fluke. Someone likely moved it here years ago as a decoration."

His eyes narrowed into suspicious slits. When she offered the map again, he took it this time. Instead of reading the document though, Alucard flipped it over and upside down, examining the parchment and ink for signs of forgery.

Integra tried not to smirk. Ha! She wished him luck. It was probably the most genuinely faked document that'd ever been created.

The penmanship, literary jargon and the paper's texture were all identical replications of its twentieth century counterpart. It'd even been locked away in the attic for a month just to acquire an aged smell.

It was flawless enough to fool machines and she saw the exact moment when it fooled a five-century old vampire as well.

Alucard's shoulders visibly drooped and the crazed gleam faded from his eyes. He looked…crestfallen, almost like a disappointed child. It was a disturbing sight on a monster's face and yet somehow pitiable as well.

Integra sighed.

"You can keep a piece, but I'm having the rest disposed of."

For a moment, Alucard stared at her, as if waiting for her to take it back. When she just returned it with a more unimpressed look, his grin stretched wide enough to touch the corners of his eyes.

_You are a goddess._ The eyes said. _You are noble and merciful and giving and I worship the ground upon which you tread._

"Yes, yes," Integra shooed him away wearily, "I would save some of that flattery for when you'll actually need it. Now hurry up and put the gun down."

___

Pip and Seras had been waiting in the rec room for fifteen minutes when Alucard suddenly burst in.

With strangled yelps, they shot off the couch in different directions only for Alucard to blow right past both of them, cradling a huge chunk of pyrite in his hands. He looked positively elated as he disappeared out of the room.

Seras and Pip stood frozen, barely daring to blink, even as the basement door yanked open and slammed shut again. It was only after they realized the house was not about to collapse on itself that they were able to somewhat relax.

"God, I have to admit, the Boss has skills," Pip muttered in awe, easing himself back down.

Seras nodded, in a similar state. "I wonder what she said to him."

"Something that I'll likely not be able to use twice," Integra said, walking in while tucking a piece of paper back into her pocket.

"And speaking of actions never to be repeated again," she pinned Pip with an icy look, "Where are your men, Captain? Don't be cute, I know you can read lips. I believe a talk is in order and it would be preferable if they showed some semblance of dignity and came to me of their own accord."

Pip winced and nodded. "Yes, boss."

"Good," she gestured nonchalantly towards the direction Alucard had sprinted off, "As soon as he's done burying that thing, I want all three of you up in my office—"

The sharp trill of her phone cut her off.

Integra glanced at it in irritation, but pulled it from her suit. "Yes?" she answered, walking out of the room, leaving Pip and Seras still on the couch.

"So you can read lips now?" Seras asked curiously, "It's only been a day."

"Oui," Pip replied, feeling pleased, "Not if they're speaking quickly, but most of the time I can. I suppose it's been pretty much drilled into my head. I can sign a bit too."

"Really?" Seras looked noticeably impressed, before smiling, "I'm glad you won't have to wear that hearing aid anymore, Captain. It sounded like it was hurting you."

"Oh, it wasn't that bad," he muttered sheepishly. It sounded unbearably pathetic when she said it.

"Anyway," he said, trying to change the subject, "What about you, mignonette? You were having trouble with the stairs just yesterday."

Seras laughed, slightly embarrassed. "Yeah, I guess I was still trying to rely on my eyes instead of my other senses. Plus, I'd forgotten all about this one." She tapped her forehead.

"It's my third eye. Or at least that's what Master calls it."

Pip stared. "You have a third eye. Merde, I really drew the short straw on this whole curse thing."

Seras laughed again and patted his shoulder. "Well, it doesn't exactly work like a normal eye. I'm not really sure about everything either, but I guess you can say I see auras with it. Like the energy that surrounds an object or something. It's how I knew the second pin was in the penthouse back at the Langham, though Master could probably explain it all better."

Unbeknownst to her, Pip frowned.

"Your master…" he said faintly, almost to himself, "So I guess this means you don't need to hold my hand anymore." He tried to play it off in a teasing way, but ended up sounding more disappointed than he'd meant to.

Seras blushed, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "Y-Yes, I guess so."

There was an awkward lull in the conversation.

Pip rubbed his neck. Seras fiddled with the hem of her skirt. They turned to each other.

"Uh—"

"Uh—"

The television suddenly blared with music.

Seras jumped violently and Pip blinked a moment, before turning to the screen. A cold chill instantly gripped his spine, his discomfort forgotten.

BREAKING NEWS: TWO TEENAGERS DISAPPEAR INTO THE WATERS OF STUDLAND BAY. THIRD AND FOURTH VICTIMS IN THE SPAN OF TWO DAYS. COASTGUARD CLOSES DORSET BEACHES, CITING POSSIBLE SHARK ATTACKS.

An anchorwoman continued on to read the names of the two victims as Matilda Collins and David Wood, both aged sixteen. Pip felt slightly light-headed.

"My God, they were so young," Seras was saying sadly, "It's funny, I don't remember there ever being sharks in the bay before."

Pip didn't reply, feeling his heart plummeting into his shoes. _This was not fucking real…_

He was so engulfed in horror that he didn't even notice Integra return, until she was literally standing next to the television.

"Ah, good," she said, though her face was grim, "I see you've already been more or less informed."

Seras blinked. "Informed of what?"

Integra gestured at the news bulletin with the hand still holding her phone.

"Your next mission."


	17. Chapter 17

\---  


 **7:34 pm**  
___

_She came with the moon. Still dark as coal, but less white, more yellow. Skin peeling off old bones._

Mère, you're rotting.

As are you.

_It is. Deep cracks webbed its shell, where minnows picked at what flesh hanged out._

I shouldn't be.

No. You could have lived for four hundred years.

_It understood nothing of time or that there was a limit to such time. So when It asked, it was not out of a sense of resentment._

Did you take them from me, Mère?

Only half. She said and raised her hand, mottled blue-green and festering. Her eye swiveled. But it seems it was not enough.

_She turned but It felt no fear. Mère would never hurt It._

You should have killed the child.

_Ah, the child. The running patter of her feet on the sand was all It knew of her._

I did not know she was there.

_She was._ La Mer's brackish waters snapped at her tattered dress. _He is coming._

_The edge of Its skin shriveled and curled. It remembered teeth and darkness. This was terror. Its mind thrummed and whited into a frenetic strand of thought, the ancient instincts of frightened fish._

_Fleefleefleefleefleeflee…_

No. _The waves hissed and scorched Its sides._ You will fight them.

He will eat me. _It raised Its arms toward Her in supplication, black slime dripping down._ He will eat me.

I told you he cannot touch you. _She held Its arm. Against its moist flesh, Her hand is dry and desiccated._ He is not one who could destroy you anyway. The one who comes for you, comes to take away the sounds of your world.

The sounds? _La Mer with La Terre. A gull's scream. The madness of the fishes._

__He gives a gift and wants it back.

_It did not know the meaning of such words. The crimson man's laugh echoed in its memories, and there was hunger there. More hunger than It could ever comprehend._

_(no) This would not do. It needed to flee. Somewhere far and deep. Somewhere those deathless creatures could not hope to follow._

_A spear of heat ripped down Its arm. La Mer shook with Its roar of pain._

__You will stay, little aka-chan. _Mère's smile was cold and decayed. Her bony hand clenched tight, It smelled Its blood on her wrist._ And you will kill him or die trying.

_Then Her face suddenly twisted._ Do not disappoint me, darling, _She crooned, sweet and dripping,_ If it should comfort you, think of it as a treat. I do not believe you have tasted immortal blood.

_It did not understand 'immortal' but It did understand 'blood.' Thin and flavorless and not enough._

It would certainly move along the recovery spell, _She was still saying,_ Do you not want your beautiful body back? All those years that were taken from you would return and more. Age and rot would never plague you again.

_That body. Bony and gray-white and lifeless. Those talon-like hands and aching fangs. In truth, It did not want that body back. It could not bear an eternity in a body like that._

_It had returned to La Mer for only two nights and could not imagine leaving ever again. But there was not mind enough in It to say what It wanted._

__Yes, Mère.

_There was a silence._

__Such a good child, _she whispered,_ I have lived long. Longer than I should have. You would think Death has forgotten my scent, but it has not.

_She cradled Its arm like a human babe. Her face was sad and full of death._ I need to live, my child. I need to become one of them, because they are beautiful and powerful and forever and that is what Anguis-sama desires. Not as I am now. He will never fulfill his end the way I am now. That…that is why I stole the years from you. From all of you.

I am sorry. But I cannot afford to die.

_It did not understand 'sorry' but It did understand 'die.' As natural as the sun and the moon, as the rivers that flowed into La Mer. All things died and It wanted to ask Her what promise a single human man could offer to change that._

_It wanted to tell Her that someday even the deathless creatures would end. That they too would lie down._

_But there was not mind enough in It to say what It wanted._

Yes, Mère.

___  


 **8:05pm**  
___

When Alucard finally phased into Integra's office half an hour later, it was with a smile that was too wide and too satisfied and filled with all kinds of bad implications.

Integra glared, unsure whether she wanted to yell at him for wasting time or order an immediate headcount of the staff.

"Ah, nice of you to join us. I take it your rock is now safe and sound in the Earth's core?"

Whether he chose to ignore her sarcasm or it went clean over his head, Alucard nodded, perfectly cheerful. Integra fought down a groan, feeling another headache on its way.

"As I was saying," she said, turning back to a rather unnerved Seras and Pip, "Recent events in Dorset have resulted in the disappearance of four people. Normally, such cases would be left to the local authorities, but as of the second incident something peculiar has been discovered."

She held up a photo of a small, plain-faced young girl. Unnoticed by anyone, Pip's face drained to a bone-white shade.

"There was a witness. She's—"

"The little sister."

Integra blinked in surprise and Alucard and Seras both turned to Pip, confused.

"…That's correct," Integra nodded, glancing at the picture again herself, "Impressive, Captain. I didn't think she shared enough resemblance to her sister to be able to tell."

Pip said nothing, having missed her words completely. He was staring at the photo.

"The girl tells us something else was there," Integra continued, "Your mission is not so much to find out what it is, but to destroy it."

She paused, trying to choose her next sentence carefully.

"A full description couldn't be obtained, but just before the victims disappeared, she did report seeing something dark and long rising out of the water."

Admittedly, it was pretty amusing how quickly Alucard's grin fell off. She could almost hear it splatter onto the ground. A split second later, his expression was thunderous with indignation.

_Out of the WHAT?_

"There is no other option," Integra said, looking unflinchingly into Alucard's scorching glare, "Whatever is in the bay is far from human. None of the soldiers have a hope of killing it. You'll be in a boat and the weather has been fair enough lately that the waves should be calm."

The glare intensified.

Integra's eyes narrowed sternly. "I'm not offering a suggestion."

"Master?" Seras questioned meekly, turning to her sire. She couldn't see his rigid, angry posture, but had sensed the exact moment when his disturbingly happy aura twisted into fury.

Integra's gaze slid to her and felt a tug of guilt when she saw her pale, sightless eyes.

"Your master has no love for the water, Seras," she said, "And I'm sorry for having you go as well, I truly am, but no one else stands a chance. I hope you'll understand."

Because a blind vampire still had a stronger possibility of success than any mortal man. It was missions like these that Integra was reminded of how fundamentally different they were.

"O-Oh, of course, ma'am," Seras replied, nodding quickly, before turning to her sire, "Don't worry, Master, I use to go to Studland Bay as a girl all the time. The water's not as clean as before, but it's still very nice to swim in, even if it is by accident." She chuckled nervously at her own joke.

Alucard gave her an incredulous look, like he was listening to a complete idiot.

Integra sighed. "Your physiology has changed," she explained gently, "A vampire's body lacks buoyancy. Should you hit the water, you would sink."

She was stared at. "I can't swim anymore?" Seras asked, in a tone that sounded much more upset, considering she'd just been ordered to kill an obscure sea monster while physically blind.

Integra resisted the urge to chuckle.

"I'm afraid so," she said, before turning to the intercom, "But that is something you will only have to experience if you fall overboard, which neither of you will be doing. The captain is one of the best in our employ. He has an arm's worth of credentials."

She pressed a button as she finished speaking. A second later, her office door opened and a man strolled in.

"'Evening, Director."

Seras blinked at the voice. "You...Aren't you-?"

"Hello, Miss! We meet again," Will unintentionally cut off, before turning to the elder vampire, "You too, big guy! Great joke down at the range by the way, almost thought you were serious."

He laughed heartily to himself, oblivious to Alucard's flat, dead stare.

Integra faked a cough.

"Captain Blade will be piloting the boat. He has already been briefed and will take into account all the…assorted difficulties of this mission."

Will smiled cheerfully at them. "Looks like we're going fishing, eh?"

Seras smiled weakly back, while Alucard looked like he wanted to break something.

"When are we leaving?" Pip suddenly asked, having not spoken in so long Integra nearly jumped at his voice. In contrast to his usually light-hearted demeanor, his expression was oddly serious and grim.

Integra stared at him for a moment before glancing at her watch. "In about twenty minutes actually."

Alucard made a faint noise that sounded like a combination of a groan and a growl. She arched an eyebrow, but refrained from saying anything. Given all the other unsavory effects running water had on vampires, she supposed he was due his complaints.

Seras patted him on the back, "It'll be alright, Master. At least the night air out on the water will be nice."

___  


 **10:47 pm**  
___

"Oh, God, I'm dying. I'm dyyyiiinnngggg…"

Seras moaned weakly, face-down against Alucard's leg. The rest of her body, which was sprawled on the deck, twitched in nauseous agony with the bobbing of the boat.

_But the night air is so lovely,_ Alucard mocked, though his attempts to shake her off were half-hearted. _For the record, this is nothing. Try sailing from Romania in one of these death-traps._

Seras felt her stomach flip just imagining it and she moaned again.

"Youf neverf toldf mef fampires gof seashick…" she muttered, voice muffled against Alucard's knee.

_Oh, it's usually much worse._ He replied curtly, _Given this is a bay and the water is stiller, you merely **feel** like your organs are about to be expelled from your mouth._

Seras made an incoherent sound and pressed more tightly against him. On any other occasion, she would've been mortified, but she had quickly discovered that her master's scent—a mixture of earth, snow and blood—was a comforting reminder of the perfectly dry land they'd left behind.

At the helm, Will laughed.

"Apologies, you two. The waves are a bit rougher than the reports were predicting, but the better for it right? Sharks love these stormy conditions."

_What manner of fool is he?_ Alucard asked, and sounded honestly curious to know.

Seras groaned and peeled herself off her master.

"Captain Blade," she said politely, "I thought you were briefed on what we're doing out here."

"Oh, I was, Miss. The girl said she saw something long and dark in the bay, but nothing else. No reason to think it's not a shark like the coast guard guessed."

As it so happened, Seras could think of a number of reasons, but refrained from listing any. It was just as well, since a minute later Will was pulling the boat to a stop.

"Right, here we are," he said, turning off the ignition, "This is the place where both disappearances happened. It's closer to shore than I thought though. Must have been a reef shark or something like it."

He went on to contemplate said shark, before musing about the reef and then, for some reason, how outrageous the prices were at the surrounding inns. If Seras hadn't known better, she would've assumed the prattling was to cover up anxiety, but it genuinely sounded like Will was expecting to just fish up a shark and call it a night.

_Is it perhaps denial?_ Her master wondered, though it was with less annoyance and more utter bewilderment. There was also the slightest hint of fascination in his tone.

Sighing and decided she needed different company for a while, Seras got to her shaky legs and staggered away from them towards the stern.

"Haha, I don't remember him being so chatty on the plane," she said lightheartedly, as she approached the figure leaning against the railing.

Though darkness still covered her vision, her third eye, which was becoming easier to open with practice, could see the aura she was looking for. A warm orange-amber color, like the glow of his cigarettes.

"Pip?" Seras said, gently touching his arm.

She could feel his muscles jolt at the contact before he turned.

"Oh," she heard him say after a moment, "It's you, mignonette."

Seras nodded, her pretty face twisted with concern. "Are you alright? You've been really quiet since we left London."

Pip didn't answer immediately, which was already odd on its own, since she couldn't remember a time when he hadn't jumped at the chance to tease her for worrying about him. It only grew stranger when he finally did speak.

"It likes women."

The boat swayed, moving with the rolling waves. She blinked.

"What?"

He was quiet again. A sudden breeze swept over the deck, reeking of salt that crawled into Seras's bones. There was the barest stench of decay in the air.

"The screams," Pip said, with horrified softness, as if reliving a nightmare, "It likes to hear them scream."

And then the boat shuddered all around them.

\---

_One hour earlier…_

\---

"Sir Integra?"

She looked up as her office door opened.

"Walter," she greeted, "I was beginning to wonder where you went."

Her butler bowed, a folder of papers held neatly in one hand.

"My apologies, ma'am. I was at one of our labs, but I hurried back as soon as I heard the news." He looked around curiously. "Where are they?"

Integra was silent a moment, before answering.

"Already on their way to Dorset. Our meeting will have to be postponed, I'm afraid."

Walter nodded. "So you did send them." It was said lightly, without accusation, even though Integra still felt like it was there.

Her grip around her pen tightened. "Yes."

There was a brief silence, before Walter walked over. "Very good, ma'am," he said simply, before laying the folder down on her desk.

"These are the translations for the scroll, along with the results for tests done on the parchment and ink. I haven't had the chance to read any of it yet though, so you'll be the first."

Integra nodded in thanks, but didn't move to open it. Walter bowed again and was just turning to exit, when her voice spoke behind him.

"Can vampires drown?"

He looked back, Integra's hands were crossed and her whole face could've been carved from stone if not for the strange glimmer in her eyes.

"Not to my knowledge."

She didn't look relieved. "But they'll sink like stones."

Walter smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure there are plenty of lifejackets on board."


	18. Chapter 18.1

\---

**10:48pm**

\---

"What the-?" Seras's eyes were white and huge, her hands clenching around Pip's arm like a vice, "What was that?"

Pip was already half-dragging her back to the helm.

"What happened?" he demanded, as they reached the others. Alucard had stood, nose tilted upwards towards the breeze, crimson eyes scanning the black waters. The serious expression on his face didn't make Pip feel better in the slightest.

Will was fiddling with various controls and switches, some of which he nearly yanked right out of the panel. His lips were flapping nervously, just below warp speed, and Pip stared blankly for about ten seconds before his gaze darted out toward the water.

Thankfully, the full moon was bright enough to illuminate the bay, but there was nothing in sight. The waves were almost calmer than they were a minute ago.

Pip bit his lip, sweat trickling down his nape. A single thought echoed in his head.

It was here.

Every fiber of him knew it was, no matter what rationales his brain tried to feed him. Pip's heart pounded so violently in his chest, it was amazing his ribs were still intact. Christ, it really hadn't been a nightmare. What the hell was happening to him?

"What was hit?" he asked, walking closer to the side, trying to take in the damage, "Can this thing still float-?"

There was another tremor suddenly—a deeper one that made the railings quiver. Then the boat lurched with incredible violence.

Gear and people went spilling across the deck.

Will and Seras shrieked as the latter was thrown into the former. Their fall was broken when they slammed rather painfully against a window.

Pip was not so lucky. Feet flung from under him, he went sailing towards the open stern, his heart lodged in his throat. He would've been knocked over the railing entirely if a sudden hand hadn't snagged his braid and halted the descent.

"Oof!" Pip grunted as his body smacked the deck, winded, doubled by the pain across his scalp. He scrambled to his feet even as stars crowded his vision. When they cleared, the first thing he saw was Alucard staring at him, holding his braid in one hand.

For a stupefying instant, he stared back, not really processing what he was seeing, before the boat heaved a second time. A wave splashed against the side, soaking the deck.

Pip cursed hideously, almost slipping but was righted again by a sharp tug of his hair. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Will and Seras being flung into the opposite window.

The vessel continued to sway and bob wildly as if being tossed around between two large hands. Pip clung to the edge of the bench, the only thing that was bolted to the deck.

Just in time too as Alucard promptly dropped him, glowing eyes narrowed as they darted over the choppy waters. The Casull glinted white in his hand as he pulled the slides.

He fired into the darkness.

Pip had just enough time to think how surreal it was not to hear the follow-up bang, before a roar of pain tore through his head, shredding all coherent thought.

"Oh, shit…" he choked, seeing splotches and barely caught himself from face-planting.

A piercing ache streaked through his right ear, and catching every nerve on fire. Hot white splotches blinded his vision and webbed outward in a black mess of agony. For a crazy second, he thought Alucard had somehow actually shot him instead.

But then the pain began to settle, as quickly as it began. And his vision cleared enough that he could make out Alucard's silhouette, still intently facing out toward the waves.

"Dieu," he wheezed to the red blob he assumed was the vampire's back, "Oh, fucking...D…Did you hit it?"

Alucard just look miffed, slipping his gun back into his coat. Across the deck, Will and Seras were hurrying over.

Well, more like Seras was hurrying and Will was doing a skittish sort of scuttling movement. For someone who was a decent swimmer and in possession of all five senses, he looked more terrified than anyone, like he hadn't realized what was happening until just now.

"Oh God, we need to get out of here," he was saying urgently, at least enunciating enough Pip could understand him, "The hull's been damaged. I don't know how badly, probably at least a couple of cracks. We need to get out. Get like back-up or the coast guard or something. Christ, Christ, maybe the fisheries too, I didn't know it was going to be such a big shark…"

Or maybe he realized nothing at all.

Pip sighed and stood, only wobbling slightly.

"No," he said, cutting Will off mid-sentence, "They need lifejackets."

The green tinge to Seras's face had deepened and Alucard was staring disdainfully at his drenched sleeves, with a trace amount of uneasiness.

Pip wasn't going to kid himself. He and Will were the only back-up that would be here tonight. And they were all as good as dead if the vampires ended up at the bottom of the bay.

"Where's the emergency kit? Over here, right?"

He half-ran over to the crate without waiting for a reply. Pip yanked the container free from all the other fallen equipment, before undoing the latches and flipping the lid.

It was empty.

Pip stared dumbly for nearly a whole minute. Then he felt along the bottom with his hand, half-expecting to find the latch of a secret compartment. Approximately a quarter of a second later, his mind scattered into the winds.

"Oh, no, no, no, no…" he tore through the rest of the cargo, practically throwing entire boxes over his shoulder.

"Will, where'd you put the fucking lifejackets on this thing?!" he snapped, about to turn.

And then he heard it.

A strand of cool thought, trickling down through his mind, utterly foreign. It froze every muscle in his body.

_I can hear you, little human…_

Pip spun around so quickly he nearly tripped over his own feet.

Will was at the helm, but outside the cabin near the railing. He was intermittently screaming into the radio and smacking it with his palm.

And above him were a pair of thick, black tentacles, dripping seawater.


	19. Chapter 18.2

Alucard had been watching Pip panic with mild interest when the smell hit him. Putrid and rotten, reeking of bones and old blood. A true bouquet of death. The monster in him purred with pleasure, even as Seras, ever human, nearly gagged.

Simultaneously, they turned their heads, and Pip whipped clumsily around a second later, face milk white.

It was huge, he had to admit. At least the length of a post light. Alucard took a rare moment to be intensely grateful that his fledgling was currently blind. It was bad enough being wet, he didn't need any of Seras's ear-piercing shrieks to start up now too.

Speaking of the blind though…

The tentacles curled and struck out like vipers, heading right for the most clueless person Alucard had ever seen.  
Pip screamed at the man to run, but there was little point. A snail could've reacted quicker.

Alucard slid the Jackal out and fired twice.

And since this particular gun was not known for its subtlety, the result was an explosion of decomposed flesh and black slime. Seras screeched at the sound, instinctively shielding her head while sludge rained upon both the helm and a petrified Will, who still didn't understand he was suppose _to run_ yet.

A burst of irritation spread through Alucard, compounded by the cold, clammy sensation of his wet sleeves clinging to his arms. Would it not have given his Master an aneurysm, he'd have fired at the fool instead, at the very least just to get him moving.

He was still weighing the pros and cons of this idea when the roar came.

It was no cacophonous strike of terror, but Alucard could see the water ripple as it vibrated from below—a moaning, whale-like sound. The railings of the boat rattled like jumbling bones. A dark shape circled around the vessel, before sliding under.

Brought back to reality, Alucard scowled and stormed over to the railing.

"Master," Seras called urgently and caught his coat, but he swatted her hand away, trying to think.

Its stench was everywhere, mingled in with the salt of the water, ruling out any detection by smell. But looking again, he noticed the slightly erratic nature of the waves.

If he listened closely, he could probably detect the sound of its movements.

He was in the middle of doing just that, when another more insistent tug on his sleeve broke his focus.

Alucard jerked around, teeth clenched in absolute annoyance, but Seras was oblivious.

"Master, there's something wrong with Pip!" she cried, half-crouched on the ground next to said man.

Alucard blinked.

Pip was curled in on himself, having fallen to his knees at some point. His face was white and he was breathing in heavy, labored gasps. Pain was evident in every contour of his body.

"I'm fine," he rasped, already staggering up and trying to push Seras's worried hands away, "I'm fine, god damn it. Just go kill that thing. You need to kill it."

In his urgency, his hand fell from where it was clutching one side of his head. Seras gasped as Alucard's brow furrowed.

"Oh my God, Captain…"

A thick, half-dried trail of blood came from his ear and streaked down the right side of his face.

Seras hurriedly produced a handkerchief from her pocket, attempting to stop the bleeding as Alucard took a puzzled step toward them. _What the—_

The boat suddenly jerked again.

Seras and Pip both pitched forward, yelping, instinctually grabbing different parts of Alucard's sleeves to keep themselves steady and almost knocking him over in the process. The vampire gritted his teeth barely keeping hold of his last shred of temper. He glanced toward the water again, but saw no sign of the beast.

The flooring beneath them shook. There was another groan, but this one distinctly mechanical as the boat started slumping to one side.

Confused, Alucard began shaking Seras and Pip off of him, trying to pinpoint the cause of the turbulence.  
To his surprise, Pip suddenly let go as if he'd been burned and charged past.

He went scrambling towards the bow, having barely regained his footing, leaving Alucard to blink after him. It was only after he looked over there himself that he understood.

Will was furiously turning the wheel, not seeming to care as the boat squealed and tilted in protest. He was babbling into the radio with a look of white panic, face still half-splattered with the beast's black blood.

_That little…_

Pip practically tackled the other man away from the wheel. Will screamed bloody murder, but Pip just grabbed fistfuls of his collar and yanked him upright again.

"THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, YOU GODDAMN CON!" he roared, practically touching noses with the other man, "YOU'RE GOING TO SINK US!"

"I'M GETTING THE FUCK OUTTA HERE, THAT'S WHAT!" Will screamed right back, utterly hysterical, "I'VE GOTTA WIFE AND KID, MAN! I DIDN'T SIGN UP FOR THIS SHIT!"

"Calm down!" Pip ordered, fury fading slightly as the younger man looked on the verge of actual tears. With forced restraint, he closed his eye and sucked in an angry breath, before opening it again.

"What'd you think we came out here for, kid? _Don't_ say shark. Who the hell sends them," he stabbed a finger in Alucard and Seras's direction, "for a shar—"

Pip broke off mid-sentence, face turning the shade of paste.

"MOVE!" he yelled and grabbed Will by the wrist, yanking him away from the railing.

Tentacles burst from the water a second later, snapping the metal bars like twigs. They raked across the deck, barely missing them. Shots crackled the air as Alucard fired three silver bullets at the appendages, tsking in annoyance when they wriggled away unscathed and tried to recede back into the water.

_Oh, I don't think so._ With a snarl, he tore after it, leaping clean over Pip and Will, before smashing a foot over the end of the last tentacle, trapping it with such force he could hear its flesh tear. _No more running._

He grinned viciously as the appendage squirmed, dark slime beginning to ooze out of its wounds. Unknowingly behind him, Pip practically dropped to his knees in agony.

The deck was beginning to reek of death.

Seras stumbled her way over with the Harkonnen on her shoulder, having somehow unearthed it from the other equipment.

"Are we sinking?" she whispered in dread, moving her blind eyes around as if it would make a difference, "It feels like we're sinking."

No one was listening to her.

Alucard leaned over the railing eagerly, grin stretching when he saw the black shape writhing beneath the surface, still trying to escape. He aimed the Jackal.

_Die._

The water exploded around them, shooting sky-high in a white spray.

There was just enough time for Seras and Will to scream, for Alucard to stare at his gun in blank confusion before the waves collided with the boat.

___

Pip had barely recovered his senses when the voice, slimy and soft, trickled through his consciousness again.

_HurtshurtshurtsHURTS…kill you…I'LLKILLYOU…_

Then there were screams as half the bay suddenly flooded the deck and helm. Pip was blown off his feet as a wall of cold, brackish water slammed into him, inadvertently swallowing a mouthful before crashing on his back.

He sat up almost instantly, sputtering from the water up his nose and in his ears. He slung his hair, heavy and wet and coming undone, back over his shoulder, swiping impatiently at the bangs that clung to his face.

"Hey!" he scrabbled over to the bench, half-crawling, "Hey, you alright?"

Seras weakly coughed up bay water from where she lay crumpled against it, bearing a striking resemblance to a drowned cat.

"Y-Yes, I think so."

Next to her, Will simply sat with his legs drawn up, soaked and splattered from head to toe, hugging his knees. There was a look of faraway horror in his eyes.

"Where's master?" Seras asked, shakily touching Pip's arm, as he helped her into a sitting position. She had to repeat the question more slowly before he could understand her.

Pip turned to where he'd seen the older vampire standing, expecting to see a drenched and thoroughly pissed off Alucard glaring back at him.

He wasn't there.

"Shit," Pip said softly, almost blankly.

Then he ripped off his outer jacket and dumped his gun holster on the floor. Adrenaline drove him to his feet even as Seras clung to him, panic and fear beginning to cloud her face. She asked again where her sire was.

"I'll find him," Pip mindlessly assured her, "I'll find him, I promise."

He was about to leap over the side of the railings without another thought when someone suddenly grabbed his shoulder and whipped him around. It was Will.

He was whiter than paper, the blood and water dripping off his face stark black. His chapped lips quivered, but were unable to form words. So he raised a trembling hand, pointing out towards the bay in the direction he had been staring.

Pip almost didn't want to look.


	20. Chapter 18.3

The first thing he registered was that it had a shell. Or something that looked kind of like one.

It was the gray-blue color of rot and crumbling at the edges, protruding out of the waters like a massive tumor.

Spindly barbs jutted out from every possible angle, black slime oozing down their lengths in oily rivulets. A large, thoroughly decayed fish hung skewered through the head, the flesh having rotted away enough that the bottom half of its skeleton stuck out.

It fluttered in the wind like a tattered flag.

The opening had crested out of the bay—a huge, pitch black cave with jagged cracks all around the rim. Nothing could be seen further inside.

Tentacles squirmed in a wet tangle at the lip, half submerged in the murky waves. Two other slightly thicker ones were raised far above and slick black in the moonlight, coiled so tightly around something that veins bulged out of the appendages' sides.

 _…I'll kill you…_ The voice rasped inside Pip's skull.

And that was when he saw, between the coils, the corner of a bright crimson coat. Pip's stomach dived into his shoes..

 _Oh, fuck._ He thought, and must have said it out loud too, since Seras turned to him in alarm.

Pip hardly noticed, his one eye fixed on that red coat, on the black hair that hung loose over the side. There was no movement. Pip wondered in vague horror if Alucard was even still in one piece, before the voice suddenly spoke again—a menacingly soft whisper.

_…I hear you…._

The boat trembled. A hard breeze swept through, intensifying the smell of decomposed flesh. Pip watched without breathing as the great, hulking misshapen thing turned further, until he was looking directly into the abysmal darkness that lay within.

It charged at them.

Time slowed. Pip saw it crash through the water, creating massive rogue waves that violently rocked the boat. He watched Will lose the last of the color in his face and open his mouth to scream.  
And even though time had slowed, there was still no goddamn time. None to react, none to even think.

Well, at least not for a human anyway.

_BOOM_

The monster froze in its tracks about four hundred meters away from them, swirling the dark waters all around it.

In the sixteenth of a second, Seras had raised the Harkonnen with one hand and fired, not even flinching at the recoil that could have ripped a grown man's arm off. Pip missed all of that in the moment it took to blink, but was left to stare at the sudden smoke curling from the muzzle.

Another gust of wind swept through the bay, whipping Seras's hair about her pale flashing eyes. Her razor-edged teeth glinted in the night and it was all perfectly badass save for one small detail.

The bullet went rocketing wildly off course, a trail of thin smoke spiraling towards the moon.

"Bollocks," she turned to him in panic, "I think I only grazed it!"

Pip nearly snorted in shock.

"No, you definitely missed…" he trailed off. His single eye widened when he saw exactly why the creature had stopped.

There, where the tentacles had been constricting Alucard's body, something was…trickling out. It was the only way to describe the strange, liquid-like blackness that was rapidly slipping through the coils, despite how they tried to keep hold.

 _What? Whatisthis? Nonononono I killedyouKilled you. You'redeaddeaddeaddead…._ The voice muttered in his head.

Simultaneously, Seras suddenly dropped the Harkonnen and leaned over the crumpled railing, sightless eyes just as wide.

"Master!"

Almost on cue, the dark substance suddenly began to glow red and writhe, gaining shadowy, flickering tendrils.

When Alucard's head and upper torso suddenly formed out of the darkness, Pip didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified. Blood dribbled from the vampire's mouth—his ribs having been undoubtedly crushed. Yet he had the most fucking nightmarish grin on.

He watched the vampire raise his hand, where the Jackal was clenched in his white, white fingers. Pip's face drained of all color when he saw where it was aimed—upon the wriggling tentacles flowing out of the shell.

 _Merde, this is going to hurt…_ He thought distantly, without even understanding why it would. Only that it would. Horribly.

It was all he had time to think, before Alucard pulled the trigger.

Pip's world dissolved into white soundless agony.

___

To say Seras was no longer all that fond of water anymore would have been the understatement of the century.

She could hear the waves calm as the thing (and God was she glad she couldn't see it) suddenly stopped, but there was no howl of pain, no scent of fresh blood that heralded a fatal blow.

At least Will had ceased shrieking, but she was all too aware that she had barely managed to hit the thing. Pip muttered back something at her voiced disappointment, and she had barely begun to process his words when her attention was swiftly yanked away.

Quite literally out of nowhere, a crimson aura had appeared before her third eye. It was a brilliant shade, only deepening in hue with each passing second and Seras knew it better than her own name. The Harkonnen slipped from her limp hands.

"Master!"

The thunderous discharge of the Jackal replied. She heard the water split as the bullet shattered through the depths and ripped wetly into flesh. The railings quivered again as an inhuman howl echoed from below.

And then Pip was screaming. An agonized, breathless sound.

Seras spun around, her undead heart nearly bursting from her chest.

"Pip?!" she called in alarm, reaching out blindly with her hands. The Jackal fired again in the distance. There was a sudden thud at her feet and Seras grabbed air.

"O-Oh…God…G-God…make him stop…make him stop, please…" she heard him rasp weakly from somewhere in front of her. His voice was soft and choked with pain, far from the cocky, debonair tone she was used to. It was frail and utterly human.

Seras kneeled down and groped with trembling hands until she found his arm. He was on his side, in a near fetal curl and she could feel his taut muscles quiver through his sleeve.

"Pip! What is it?" she shook him in panic, but there was no reply as the man continued mumbling hysterically to himself.  
She wasn't even sure if he knew he was speaking at all.

His hands were clenched tightly around his ears, his nails digging into his temples. Seras pried them away as gently as she could.

"Stop it, you idiot! You're going to hurt yoursel—"

She froze. The smell of Pip's blood filled the air as soon as she lifted his hands.

"Oh, bugger," she whispered, nearly feeling light-headed at the scent. That was a lot of blood. The monster inside her surfaced and shuddered with pleasure, but she quickly shoved it back down.

What the hell was going on? Had something fallen on him? Had Master somehow—no, that made no sense.

Another shot from the Jackal rang out. Seras's eyes widened in shock when Pip jolted violently beneath, a guttural scream of pain escaping him. If it had not been for the distinct lack of blood exploding in all different directions, she would've thought he'd actually been shot.

"Pip," she said soothingly, holding his hands, "Pip, it's alright. Master's going to kill that thing and then we can get out of here."

Or she hoped they could anyway. The boat was groaning desperately and she could feel the deck beginning to tilt ever so slightly to one side. Seras heard the water slosh along the flanks of the vessel and felt her stomach somersault inside her. There were no life jackets and she had no idea how quickly she would sink if she hit the water.

She was forced to turn away from her worries when Pip's writhing began to become more desperate. In a sudden burst of strength he ripped his hands from her grasp and wrapped them around his ears again.

"Please make him stop…" he moaned lowly, "Oh, God, he's killing me…"

"Who?" Seras demanded helplessly, picking up the Harkonnen again in aimless frustration, "Who is?"

But there was no answer. He couldn't hear her and she couldn't see what was hurting him. She was powerless.

Cold fear nearly gripped her heart, before a quiet, trembling voice suddenly spoke up somewhere a few feet from them.

"I-It's because he's killing that thing…"

Seras nearly leapt out of her skin, having all but forgotten Will was even there.

"What?"

There was the patter of boot soles against wet metal as Will moved closer. Her third eye blinked open and Seras could see his aura—a pale, nearly white, yellow.

"I-I don't really know how," he continued nervously, "But I think the Cap'em's…connected to it. That monster, that thing, whatever it is. I-It doesn't bleed, Miss. Just this…this black stuff comes out and then the Cap'em's ears, they start—"

Seras didn't hear anymore.

"Master!" she screamed, shooting to her feet, "MASTER, STOP!"

Silence answered her, save for the violent slapping and splashing of water by long spindly tentacles. The moan from deep below had grown louder, more desperate.

The air around them lowered by several visible degrees.

Next to her, Will sucked in a thin, horrified breath that set the hairs on Seras's arms on end.

"Jesus, h-his shoulder—something's coming out of his shoulder…"

A sudden gust of wind whistled by her ears, and beneath it she could hear the sound of an inhuman snarl. A feral howl of glee.

Baskerville.

"MASTER!"

It was futile. Alucard saw nothing but the mission at hand and was too caught up in his own bloodlust to spare them a glance. The thing wailed again, creating large ripples upon the water's surface. And despite the strange, alien quality to the sound, Seras could hear its fear—raw and primal, like any other wild beast's.

It knew what was coming.

Almost simultaneously, Pip curled further into himself, the green of his single eye nearly pale with terror.

"No, no, s'il te plaît, oh God, don't let him eat me…"

Seras pounded on the mental link, but it was as if attempting to barrel through an iron wall.

Alucard's aura was growing into an increasingly darker red. Her third eye strained to focus in on the faint outline of her sire's rail thin body, taut in a predatory crouch. She could see the flame-like glow over his arm and the beginning contortions of Baskerville's maw.

"Holy _shit_! What the fuck is that?!" Will suddenly screamed, landing hard on his rump as his legs gave out, "Jesus, i-it has teeth...!"

There was no time left. Ice crawled down her spine as she forced whatever power she had into the mind link, nearly grinding her teeth with the effort. Her head began to feel like it was filling with water.

_No_

Pip moaned again from somewhere far away. He was going to die right in front of her. The iron wall crumbled almost unnoticeably.

_No_

The water in her head turned to lead. In the darkness of the mental link, strange green beams of light chased her away from her master's mind. A woman with a half-rotted face and a bulging eye flashed before her.

 _Out of my way,_ she snarled and tore through the images, almost blacking out a second later once she reached the other side.

Alucard's end of the link was a storm of ravenous bloodlust and psychotic delight, which poured forth overwhelmingly the moment their minds reconnected. She'd forgotten how…hungry her master always was.

The monster in Seras surged upwards in eagerness, but she forced it back down with the sound of Pip's agonized moans.

_MASTER_

Somehow, he still couldn't hear her. Baskerville's jaw opened. Distantly she heard Will scream and curse.

Without thinking, Seras pushed forth every ounce of her psychic presence, sending it spiraling into Alucard's consciousness.  


_**STOP!** _

It pierced through his mind in the form of an ear-splitting screech. Seras felt her master recoil in surprise and the howling of his familiars reverberated in her skull.

Baskerville shrunk and vanished like a doused candle flame.

Seras nearly collapsed from relief, her head pounding with the dizziness and nausea of the power surge and the salty air of the bay.

"It's okay, Pip," she murmured breathlessly, "It's okay now."

It occurred vaguely to her that Alucard was probably furious and bewildered. Despite her light-headedness, Seras gathered her energy to send a meek, apologetic pulse towards him, hoping to assuage his anger and explain.

It was to her shock when all she felt from him was pain.

_Master?_

There was a sickening snap, like bones breaking. The wind blew to her the scent of Alucard's blood.

"Oh, no…" Will suddenly whispered, full of dread and horror. Without warning, he leapt to his feet and Seras heard him dash across the deck.

Not even a second later, something hit the water with a violent splash.

___  


**11:00 pm**  
___

"What?" Integra stood from her seat, planting her palms on her desk, "I sincerely hope for your own sake that you're joking."

The man standing in front of her sweated, looking nervous and uncomfortable as she glared daggers into him.

"M-My apologies, Sir Integra," he stuttered, fumbling with his papers, "The inspections were done according to protocol. I'm not quite sure what happened."

"Well you had better be sure soon!" Integra snapped, "Who did the final inspection? A boat deployed for supernatural combat _has no lifejackets onboard_ and they did not think this was relevant enough to report?!"

The poor paper-pusher visibly shrunk further into himself. As a member of the lower circle of management, he had never come face to face with the Director before. Needless to say, he was only beginning to realize how bad of a mistake had been made now that he was.

"Ma'am, please look at this," Walter interrupted suddenly, hurrying over with the other half of the man's paperwork, "These last few inspection reports haven't been signed."

Integra narrowed her eyes at the forms. Indeed, the reports had been filled out, but the inspector's signature and personal information had been left blank. The lifejackets had also been verified to be onboard in each one.

If it had not been for the voiced concerns of one of the mechanics, they would've likely never known.

Integra nearly crumpled the papers in her hand. She had personally checked and made sure that there were four lifejackets on board before the official inspections took place. What the hell happened?

"I want the name of whoever filed this report," she ordered, "Interrogate, raid and seize, analyze the handwriting if you need to, but _find them_. Am I understood?"

The man quickly nodded

"Go now."

If he had moved any quicker, he would've teleported. Integra clenched her teeth in frustration, trying to rein in her anger at the strange incompetence that seemed to be plaguing this particular week.

"Prepare the helicopter, Walter," she commanded, "We are going to Dorset."

The butler nodded and exited swiftly. Integra lit a cigar and tried to keep her rising dread at bay.

_Don't be clumsy. Stay onboard. Don't fall in, goddamn it._


	21. Chapter 18.4

\---

**11:00 pm**

\---

Will really didn't know what the hell was happening at the moment. Or rather what had even happened for the last hour and a half.

There was one part of him that was still wondering if this was some hellish nightmare he'd wake from at any second, safe and warm with his wife tucked next to him. Another part wondered if his death would be very painful.

And it's all wrong. He has been a good soldier, a good Christian, and a good husband. He has taken care never to stray from the light of God and His words, and kept his faith no matter how many times it's been tried.

Why the fuck was this happening to him?

The black, blood-like substance had dried on his face and was flaking off his cheek in bits. It reeked of decay and old kelp, and the mere stench of it would've made him gag if he wasn't already on the edge of hyperventilating.

_Shit Shit Shit Shit Shit_

His legs were somehow supporting him, though they felt like rubber and ached from the bruises made while being thrown all over the deck.

It was too dark to make out every detail, but the moon traced a silver outline around the thing ( _oh god, what is that thing? Whatisthatthing?_ ), and each long black spike of its shell stood unobscured over the water.

It was the only reason Will saw one of them spear straight through the vampire's torso. How it exploded out of his back, blood spraying out like some macabre fountain.

And maybe it was the adrenaline coursing through his veins or the numbing terror threatening to white out his mind, but he could see every rivulet, every drop of bright crimson slithering languidly down the black length of the spike.

He had never seen blood so red before.

The vampire Alucard hung there like a rag doll, pupils shrunken into pinpricks of shock, and as tall as the guy was, he was also thin and almost weightless-seeming at times and looked like he'd been damn near split in half.

A dripping, wriggling tentacle wrapped around his long, prone legs. Will's sweat ran cold.

"Oh, no…" he said, and then though he didn't really understand why himself, he was across the deck in a dead sprint.

The metallic floor was slick with bay water and slime, while somewhere far behind he heard the girl, Seras, scream something out in horror while the Captain continued to moan.

Alucard hit the water where he was flung, instantly disappearing under without a hint of struggle.

And it's only after Will had already vaulted over the railing, the brackish, bottomless waves rushing up to greet him that he realized how far he was out of his league.

\---

_The Crimson Man disappeared beneath the surface of La Mer._

_It had felt His fanged maw closing in upon Its flesh and It had sensed more hunger in Him than anything It has known. An ancient hunger. Much like Mère's._

_The wriggling minnows still stuck in the cavities of his shell had screeched._

_FleefleefleefleefleeFLEE_

_It tried, but the Crimson Man's shadow wrapped tight around It, much like It too once had centuries ago to wandering sharks and long-legged women who came too close to the edge. It could not moveItcouldnotmoveItcouldnotmove…_

_And then strangely. The Crimson Man jerked, his shadows being swallowed back into him. His pale, beautiful face marred by bared, clenched teeth. A white hand gripped his head and an emotion flashed over his eyes. Pain._

_If It were any other creature, It would have been surprised._

_But It was not made for curiosity._

_The blood on its shell now was cold. Like ice or the rock of the arctic bed. Nothing like the heat and life of human blood and perhaps unappetizing in this respect, because It has always loved humans for the warmth of their flesh._

_But it was very red and shimmered like the scales of fish under moonlight. Power roiled in its scent._

_Mère's words ring faintly in the flickering caverns of Its mind._

I do not believe you have tasted immortal blood.

\---

The water was a _lot_ colder than Will had expected and plunging in had nearly knocked the breath out of his chest. Pitch blackness enveloped him and he could barely see even the outline of his hand a few centimeters away from his face.

The lone source of light came from the boat's lantern, still miraculously intact and swinging on its hook up above. It gave off a pale yellow beam that penetrated only a shallow amount into the depths.

But it was still enough for Will to catch a glimpse of the blurry, red-coated form, sinking like a rock down towards the abysmal darkness. With frantic, furious kicks, he swam after it, trying desperately not to think of what else may be swimming close by, how that thing was in the water too.

_I'm going to die oh god I'm going to die._ The mantra raced in his head even as he somehow finally caught up with Alucard and closed a hand over his arm. His lungs were crying by then and the growing pressure on his bones as he dived down was starting to hurt.

The vampire's ebony hair floated all around them, darker even than the depths they'd sunken to. Some locks of it almost seemed to wrap around Will's shoulder, as if clinging to him with a will of their own. He tried not to think about it.

Alucard's face could not be made out save for the ghostly profile of his cheekbones and perhaps it was best this way. While Will had always been a little different from his colleagues where the Hellsing vampires were concerned—finding them fascinating, beautiful even—those bloody red eyes in the dark was the last thing he needed to see right now.

Wrapping his fingers tight, he pulled upwards.

And nearly lost what air was left in his lungs from shock. It was like trying to pull up an anchor. A pure metal one. With two extra anvils stacked on top.

_Holy shit…_

There was no way in hell a guy so willowy and slender could weigh this much. Yet even as Will's mind frenetically puzzled over the physical impossibilities of the matter, they continued to sink—invisible forces sucking them down and down and down.

Clenching his teeth, he strained his muscles, pouring every ounce of strength into his legs as they sliced through the water. His lungs were burning and his chest was threatening to burst from the strain.

Somehow, miraculously, they started moving.

But it was slow and the little puddle of lantern light up above seemed impossibly far away. It wasn't long before black specks began dancing across his vision. Instinct told him to let go of the extra weight and make a break for the surface, but Will knew better than to do that.

He thought of his wife and his daughter and knew he owed Hellsing too much to let its greatest legacy sink to the bottom of the bay.

Even though he was dazedly certain he was about to drown.

Suddenly, the water above exploded in a white plume of bubbles that sent him reeling back in surprise.

Something plunged in a meter or so above their heads, bobbing straight back to the surface an instant later. It was long and shadowed, but the only thing Will immediately noticed was that it floated.

With one final burst of strength, he pulled Alucard toward it, scrabbling for purchase on the edge of it to buoy himself, before bursting through the surface.

Oxygen flooded his lungs in a white rush and Will gasped it in like a starving man. Salt water stung his eyes, dripping down his face as his head throbbed from the lack of air. The violent sounds of the crashing waves and the boat's squeal came back in a torrent of noise. Someone was shouting in the distance, the girl Seras, but her words flew straight through one ear and out the other.

It wasn't until a good beat later that he realized the object he was clinging to was the deck bench—the forty-kilo deck bench that had been _bolted down with steel and welding_. Flung into the water like a plastic frisbee.

His mind decided not to process it.

With one weak, trembling hand he towed over the vampire still in his grip.

"Y-You alright?" he stuttered, knuckles whitening as his fingers dug into the bench's side. It took a monumental effort just to keep Alucard above the surface.

There was no reply, not that Will had been expecting one, but the vampire did look at him then. Under the moonlight, his skin was a strange bluish-pale and the black hair that had been flowing around them was now plastered wetly to his face.

His eyes were glowing and huge.

It would have been terrifying if Will hadn't been so concerned. Looking back, Alucard had not struggled or even moved once, even as he'd been essentially dragged through the water.

Could vampires go into shock?

Before Will could do anything he'd undoubtedly regret however, Alucard suddenly reached over him and grabbed the edge of the bench with his own hand. The entire thing sunk down a visible inch, but continued to stay afloat.

He then sent Will a pointed look, his gaze falling to the hand still on his arm. Seeing as he was able to keep himself above water a hell of a lot better than Will ever could, he released the vampire, feeling his shoulder scream with joy.

It was a millisecond later that he saw the blood stained all over Alucard's hand.

"Bloody hell!" he screamed and grabbed Alucard's arm again without thinking, "Shit, right, right, you're bleeding, God, hold on let me check it…"

He missed the look of utter astonishment on Alucard's face as he reached down toward his abdomen where he had seen the spike go through, still horrified at himself for forgetting that the guy had just been impaled only a few minutes ago.

When he raised his hand again, it was soaked with gleaming blood. Alucard's eyes widened a slight fraction in vague surprise. Will was nearing hysteria.

"Oh, fuck," he muttered shrilly, and quickly clamped his hand back down on the wound, "Oh, fuck, oh fuck, okay, okay, don't worry, I've got you. Bloody hell, I didn't—a-are you dizzy? Please, please don't pass out…"

Panic was rising like a tidal wave in him as he babbled. It was cold, they were adrift with who-knows-what around them, and he was trying to plug up the fist-sized hole in a vampire's stomach with his bare hands.

_I didn't sign up for this. Jesus Christ, I didn't sign up for this._

\---

Alucard was a bit confused at the moment.

After being rather obnoxiously stabbed (because apparently the creature could grow those annoying spikes on its back at will), he'd fallen off with the one sole thought of _disemboweling_ the disgusting thing and leaving it out to shrivel in the sun.

Then he'd actually hit the water, during which centuries of natural instincts and terror of the sea had rendered his body near catatonic with shock.

His last fleeting thought at that point was that no, if they ever managed to find him again he was going to kill _everyone_. Everyone. And then he was going to ignore Integra for a week.

Never, in all the centuries that he's lived, did he think the shivering, sobbing little pilot would jump after him. Humans were such puzzling creatures.

The boy's hand was currently pressed against the hole in his torso, which he noted was still bleeding. This was why he hated fighting in the water—his body always took forever to heal.

The boy was also babbling incoherently at him, firing out hundreds of jumbled questions, none of which Alucard had any way of answering.

It was all very inconvenient and annoying.

He couldn't even remember why he'd ended up falling in in the first place. It was unlike him. The pull of the water had been strong, but nothing he couldn't have overcome with the slightest bit of effort. And he'd fallen off with the clumsiness of a yearling.

"Master!" Seras suddenly screamed from on deck, her blind eyes staring pointlessly out into the waves, "Captain Blade!" When Alucard turned to glance up at her, he could see the indentations she was leaving in the metal.

Oh. The police girl. Yes, this was the type of mistake he expected more from her…

Wait, the police girl.

Now that he thought of it, hadn't she been shrieking about something earlier? About killing someone or stopping something or whatever. Fledglings really were such pains. Couldn't she see he'd been busy? As if whatever she'd had to say was of such urgency that—

It hit him.

Will screamed at an octave he never thought he'd be capable of when the bench suddenly crumpled underhand.

_I'LL KILL HER!_

\---

In her defense, she had done it to save Pip.

So if given the choice, she would do it again.

Even if there had been that one split second, as she heard Will's footsteps race across the deck before leaping into the water, when she'd been full of the most unbridled form of terror she had ever experienced. A mind-numbing moment where she sat there and wondered if she had just lost of her own doing the last remnant of family she had left.

It passed quickly though when she heard Will burst through the surface minutes later, Alucard's brilliantly red aura appearing before her third eye.

It was no exaggeration to say her master was pretty much invincible. Pip on the other hand was not. And her master would have survived falling into the bay, while Pip probably would not have survived being eaten by Baskerville via unexplained, psychicsomatic connection.

Given this logic, she thought her actions were warranted.

It was too bad Alucard did not seem to think the same.

Blimey, he was angry. She'd never heard him use so many swear words in one sentence before. He hadn't even seemed to notice that she'd managed to restore the mind link between them, simply raging through it in a firestorm of threats and belligerence and random curses in Romanian.

Seras shrunk down, hugging the much-abused railing.

"I'm sorry!" she wailed out over the water, toward the general direction she thought he was in, "I didn't know it was going to hurt you. Please don't be so mad!"

_The day you could actually hurt me is the day I leap freely into the sun, you little piece of căcat! You're dead all over again, do you hear me? DEAD! Don't bother sleeping for the next century!_

Seras whimpered, the bond between them making her wilt further under the heat of her sire's rage.

"But Master, I—"

She was cut off when a hand suddenly grabbed her wrist, yanking her away from the edge. A split second later, a tentacle smashed through the guardrail.

"Can we _not_ forget about the giant fucking sea squid trying to kill us?" A familiar French voice snapped next to her, as her wrist was released.

"Captain!" Seras exclaimed in relief, seeing his warm, auburn aura glow before her, "Are you alright?"

Pip sighed, sounding uncharacteristically tired.

"Yes, ma cher, I'm fine. Thank you," he replied genuinely, before suddenly cursing again and shoving her away from him. The place where they'd been standing was smashed a second later and Seras's eyes widened at the sound of metal being bent and crushed.

Had it been that strong a few minutes ago?

"Get out of the water!" Pip was shouting over the edge, "Will, get him out of the water now!"

"Pip, watch where you're standing!" Seras cried, pulling him back, "Isn't that thing after you?"

She had to repeat the question again, before Pip could read her lips properly. There was a short, incredulous snort.

"Me? I doubt it even knows I'm here. It's you it's after." Then he paused.

Unbeknownst to Seras, Pip turned back to the bay in dread, looking at where Alucard's blood swirled bright crimson in the water.

"Or more like the goddamn opium you have for blood."

\---

_It was the single most delicious thing It had ever tasted in Its life._

_The power, the magic of it. It could feel it all thrum through Its flesh, healing the ruined, shriveled skin. The cracks upon Its shell sealed with barely a hiss. The ancient ache of age and death dispersed as if it were never there._

_How? How had It even lived without this blood?_

_Had Mère kept this to herself? All those centuries they'd rotted with Her in that barren, human house and She had kept this to herself?_

_It'dkillher. It'd Kill Her But First It Needed More_

_And more and more and more and more and more…_


	22. Chapter 18.5

___

 **11:44 pm**  
___

Seras didn't have time to reply or even react, before Pip was tackling her to the ground again, the sound of metal creaking and snapping apart reverberating in her skull a second later.

"Boat's going to get crushed at this rate," Pip muttered, his breath tickling her ear, and the dripping trail of his braid slid over her knees as he turned. "You hurt?"

Seras shook her head—aside from a few bruises, she was wholly untouched.

She could feel Pip's frame noticeably slump in relief as he sighed.

"Good. Last thing the ugly bastard needs is another hit."

"Of blood?" Seras said, trying to make sense of the situation, "What about you then?" Her fingers brushed the edge of his ear, "I smelled your blood all over the place earlier."

 _Yes…_ The monster in her purred, _Hot and fresh…_

Seras shuddered and pushed it back down with force.

"I told you, it doesn't want mine, mignonette," Pip was saying, with almost grim humor, "Too thin and not enough…kick, I guess. Not ageless."

She blinked. "What are you talking about?"

Before she could get a reply, they were interrupted by a shrill scream out on the water.

Seras's head shot up like a bullet and Pip whirled around at seeing her reaction, running to the edge.

"Damn it," he whispered, "He's still bleeding."

"What's going on?" Seras asked, bewildered, "Was that Captain Blade?"

Pip didn't answer, his face draining of color as he watched the scene a few feet below them.

Slowly, as if leeched away by a giant sponge, the glistening, immortal blood webbing through the water was being sucked down beneath the waves.

Alucard was staring, vague surprise in his eyes as he watched his own blood disappear into the depths. Will, on the other hand, had a more animated reaction.

"WHAT THE FUCK," his face was bone-white, chest heaving much faster than it should be.

Not even a second later, something exploded in Pip's skull. Ribbons of color spiraled across his vision as his brain rattled in its cavity. One word propelled forward like a missile, rippling through his soundless world.

_MORE_

He didn't realize he was staggering backwards, until he felt Seras catch him. Her inhumanly strong hand gripped his bicep. He could see her pretty face scrunched with worry and her lips moving to form his name, though no sound followed.

_MORE_

A few feet below them under the puddle of lamplight, Pip saw Will's hands were still rather ineffectually pressed against Alucard's chest. Bright crimson flowed freely between his drenched and trembling fingers.

"Merde..." Pip brushed away Seras's hand and straightened shakily, "We need to get them out of the water, it—"

The boat groaned as waves crashed against the sides, nearly knocking them off their feet. A strange shudder rippled down Pip's spine, making his hair stand on in.

It was an ancient and desperate hunger, so alien that his blood went cold. He needed to hurry.

Turning frantically about the deck, Pip's gaze landed on the fallen emergency crate, which had somehow remained on board while all other equipment had been washed away. A second glance told him why.

Two long cords of rope had it strapped down to the deck, both nearly four meters in length. That would work.  
Pip pounced on them, kicking the box aside. With a single, fluid motion, he tied the two pieces of rope together despite the difficulties of the wet and coarse material.

Tugging it once roughly to ensure the knot would hold, he hurled one end of it into the water. It landed with a wet splat a few feet away from Alucard, who stared at it like he didn't know what it was.

"Grab on!" he yelled down, having no idea if he could even be heard, "I'm going to pull you out!"

Will didn't wait for Alucard to process what Pip was saying, practically leaping onto the rope with hysterical relief and snagging the vampire by the arm.

Pip sucked in a breath, his muscles coiled and he dug his heels into whatever purchase the slick, metal floor could afford him. He pulled.

And felt much like an iron block was on the other end.

"Mon Dieu…" Pip wheezed.

He'd been expecting a bit of weight, knowing vampires sunk in water, but fuck. How the hell had Will even managed to drag Alucard to the surface?

_Blood…_

Pip's head shot up, the hiss of a voice shuddering through his skull. He looked across the water.

There, just beyond the circle of lamplight and a mere twenty feet or so from Will and Alucard, something dark and misshapen was peeking out of the waves.

_Immortal blood…_

Will caught sight of it a second later. Pip watched his face contort into a muted screech, all color draining from it. He watched Alucard blink flatly at him, before looking over his shoulder in confusion.

He watched Alucard's lips part in surprise and then curl into a sneer. His eyes began to glow.

"Nononononono…" Will's quivering lips stuttered out, as he tightened his grip on Alucard's arm, trying to keep him in place, "Not that way. Let's not go that way, alright!?"

Pip threw all his weight into pulling the rope.

"Shit…" he clenched his teeth, knuckles whitening. The deck was too slippery to even get a decent footing.

A small, white hand grabbed the rope. Seras's milky eyes blinked up at him.

"Let me." 

She yanked before he could speak.

They were not so much tugged forward as ripped clean out of the water. Literally. Pip's eye nearly rolled out of its socket as he watched a screaming Will and an owlishly blinking Alucard go hurtling into the air.

He was only saved from being squashed flat when Seras's hand suddenly darted out and haphazardly pulled him to the side. Barely a second later, Alucard and Will crash-landed onto the boat in a jumble of limbs.

Well, Will crashed anyway while Alucard landed neatly on top of him, feet first. Pip cringed.

"You guys okay?" he ventured.

There was a beat before Will raised a twitching hand in acknowledgement, maybe mumbling something, not that Pip could tell when the guy was still kissing the deck floor. Alucard on the other hand, blinked once at him in bewilderment, before his face began contorting in rage.

Every hair that wasn't already on end from the wind sifting through his soaked clothes rose immediately.

"H-Hey, sorry about that," his hands flew up in surrender, "We couldn't think of any other way to—"

Alucard's eyes slid away before he could even finish speaking, pinning down on something a few inches above Pip's left shoulder. At the same time, Pip suddenly felt a hand grip the back of his jacket and damp hair tickle his nape. Seras's white, terrified eyes peeked over his shoulder at her seething master.

Pip stared. _Wha…?_

Alucard stepped off of Will's back, probably not even realizing he'd been standing on someone. He was drenched from head to toe in bay water, ebony wisps of hair stuck to his pale forehead and the sides of his cheeks. Wet, bloody footprints dripped in his wake.

Shivering, Seras ducked down further behind Pip as if he could somehow offer protection. Her thin, colorless lips stumbling along with some explanation or another that was utterly lost to him and apparently to her sire as well, seeing as his murderous expression didn't change.

A few feet away, Will continued twitching on the floor.

The waves sent the boat tottering back and forth. A stream of half-intelligible words whispered in the spray and slithered into Pip's deaf ears.

_moremoremoremoremoremoremore_

Pip bit his lip and took a precious second to dart a glance out towards the waves below. The black shape had disappeared. Shit.

"L-Look," he started, hands still nervously up, "I know you're pissed, but we've got bigger problems."

Immediately, he prayed he hadn't come off as dismissive, unsure of his own tone. Truth be told, Pip had no clue where this sudden homicidal rage was coming from, having been too busy writhing in unholy agony for the fifteen minutes prior.

There was hardly time to ponder further though. With two more strides from his ridiculously long legs, Alucard was towering over them. The water from his hair dripped onto Pip's forehead. His abdomen looked especially mutilated up close and the stench of blood mixed with the salty air in a nauseous blend.

Pip's fingers twitched, battling the incessant urge to at least plug the wound before it bled all over the deck and back into the water again.

"Come on, Mr. Alucard, can't you just—"

A spidery, white hand rose up from Alucard's side and reached for them. Seras went rigid and for once, Pip was relieved by his deafness because she was more than likely screaming. Mind blanking at the edges, he jumped straight to the point, blurting it out with his eye clenched shut.

_"The thing's talking to me!"_

The hand stopped a bare inch above their heads.

A pause.

Once Pip realized he hadn't yet been flung into the horizon for being in the way, he summoned the courage to look up.

Puzzled crimson eyes stared down at him, narrowed and waiting.

___

_The Crimson Man was not in La Mer any longer. It had reached out Its hands, seeking that rich, sweet blood, sucking it down as old pains and aches grew fainter and fainter with each drop._

_There was not mind enough in It to remember a time before pain, before the agony of age and death. It could not remember being stolen from._

_The Crimson Man was one of the deathless beings and though It had never understood what Mere envied so deeply about those pale, lifeless creatures, It was beginning to now._

_To be without age and death…_

_Without pain._

_If this was what Mère had desired, if this what she had tried to turn them all into, then It could not blame her.  
It would still kill her. Still swallow her whole for her lies, but It could not fault her. _

_There was not mind enough in It for hate._

_La Mer roared, but her salty lashes now felt brittle. Hardly a threat against Its thick and crack-less shell. With no rotting, old flesh left to dine on, the minnows scattered in disinterest, wriggling out through any available opening, like disease being flushed away._

_It was…It was whole._

_It felt no pain. It could not go back to pain._

_It needed more._

_Moremoremoremoremore_

_The Crimson Man was still near. It could smell His scent in the spray, could almost taste His sweet blood splattering across that little, white boat._

_He was ancient and angry, but It could not flee. It needed more._

___

"…S-So that's what's been happening," Pip said, stumbling to a finish in his rather hazy explanation, "I don't know why suddenly…i-it's like I was there, seeing through its eyes…how those women and kids..."

He ran a hand through his damp hair, shuddering slightly at the memories.

"I could hear them…screaming."

"Pip," Seras murmured, feeling brave enough to inch out from behind and touch his arm.

Alucard just stared down at him, eyes still narrowed. His gaze was pitiless, though Pip supposed he should be grateful it wasn't filled with suspicion either.

After a moment, he pulled his hand away.

Instead of dropping back to his side however, Alucard held it over his own wound, ghosting across the gaping hole with his fingertips.

In the night, the flesh pulsed bright red and began to stitch back together.

Pip nearly collapsed in relief.

" _Thank you._ Oh thank fucking—"

A sudden, sharp chill crawled down his spine and the words died in his throat.

_….blood…_

_…immortal blood…_

"Right, time to go," Pip murmured, already hurrying past both vampires. He stopped in front of Will and leaned down, hoisting the boneless man up by the collar.

"Hey, kid, snap out of it!" he said, shaking him none-too-gently, "Can the boat still move? I need you to drive this thing!"

He nearly dropped Will like a sack of bricks when Seras's hand brushed his shoulder again, turning him around.

"Pip, what are you doing?" her lips moved.

"What do you think? We need to get out of here! I'll tell the Boss everything, we'll come up with a better plan—"

Seras's eyebrows scrunched slightly.

"What about the mission?"

He stared at her. "It's getting _high_ off your blood. _Fuck the mission._ "

"You can't say that," she looked almost scandalized, "It's Sir Integra's order."

Pip considered asking how much she thought Sir Integra would enjoy fishing her out of the reef bed, but decided there wasn't time to waste on a pointless spat. There were more pressing matters at hand.

Moving to the crumpled jamb of the bridge, he pried the door loose with a grunt and peeked inside. The cabin was a mess of shattered glass, shrapnel and loose sparks, but the wheel was thankfully intact.

It looked cramp though, even for normal-sized people, and he inwardly winced.

"Hide in here," Pip said, turning back to the vampires, "Will's gonna need some space to steer, but there should be enough room."

Seras really hadn't been kidding about having that third eye, because she looked directly at him.

"You want us to hide?!" she blinked, incredulous, "Are you insane?"

" _I'm_ insane? You—!" Pip cut himself off, dragging a hand down his face, "Look, how many times do I have to say this? It. Wants. Your. Blood. What else are you going to do besides hide? Throw yourself at it?"

Seras scowled. But before she could lash out with a scathing retort in return, Alucard glided up behind her. His steps were soundless even on the slick, dented flooring, and though he didn't reach out to touch her, Seras instantly flinched and turned to him.

"Master?"

Alucard didn't look at her. His blazing eyes were settled squarely on Pip, which was needless to say, not the best feeling in the world. But there was a strange, considering gleam to his gaze and after another moment, Seras turned back around.

"He….He wants to know when you started hearing it."

Pip blinked dumbly for a beat, before realizing what she was referring to, "Oh, u-uh, yesterday night I think. In a dream. About three days since we came back to London."

Apparently, this hadn't been the right thing to say, as Alucard's eyes narrowed. He stared at him for an unnerving moment, calculating things unknown. Pip fidgeted, confused and fighting the simultaneous urge to just shove them into the cabin himself.

He was spared the suicidal notions however, when Alucard suddenly walked forward on his own.

The large, frigid hand landing on his shoulder nearly jolted Pip out of his skin. Glowing crimson eyes gave him another cursory glance, before he was turned around bodily, like a swivel chair.

And all of a sudden, Pip was the one being pushed into the bridge instead.

It took a few stunned seconds for him to process what was even happening, before he could begin to struggle and by then he was already half through the doorway.

"What the—Wait!" he dug his heels in, pushing back with all his strength, which at least made Alucard pause slightly. " _Wait._ What are you doing? It's after you, not me!"

Seras took a half step forward, completely lost. "Master?"

Behind her, the water below swirled.

___

_The Crimson Man was not alone._

_There was another deathless one on the boat. Smaller. Younger._

_A fledgling._

_And a woman._

_Its flesh prickled. Snatches of golden hair and blue eyes wreathed Its hazy memory._

_In that House, It had grabbed a human man. Had wrenched his delicate human neck back and shuddered with hunger at the scent of flesh._

_It was not right, It had thought—to live on blood, when It had not been made for that alone. To be so far from La Mer._

_Not right._

_It remembered the Deathless Woman's eyes. How they flashed crimson like the rims of the Sun. How her teeth glinted._

_Before her, It had been a sad parody. A mere shadow. They all had been. Even Mère who believed herself deathless as well._

_And now she was here. Where the waves rolled and the voice of the fish whispered in the toss. Only a few slabs of man-made metal in between. Her blood, even if not as thick and rich as her sire's, would be sweet indeed._

_It rose Its head above La Mer and could hear her there. Standing in the shadows. Her voice high and soft. Even deathless women were still women. They would scream the same way._

_…And then It heard something else._

_Something new._

_Something It had not heard before. Could it be…?_

_Mère's words echoed in Its deaf and scarred ears, whispering warnings of the return to darkness. To pain and silence._

_It reached upwards._

_____

_Mine._

Pip's head snapped up almost at the same time as Alucard's, perhaps even a second faster.

"LOOK OUT!" 

The tentacle shot from the water, scraping across the deck for Seras at blurring speeds. It was only because Pip was already running that he managed to knock her out of the way. Long fingers curled around a cool tiny wrist, as he threw her back from the edge, stumbling forward to avoid the tentacle himself.

It swept pass them like a black cleaver, probably taking part of Pip's braid with it.

The flooring beneath him rattled, as if it were about to break apart at the nails and he instantly lost his footing.

Pip grunted as he landed rather ungracefully on his face, almost smashing his nose in. He scrambled up again as quick as he could, catching a glimpse of the tentacle slither back into the bay. Water lashed against the railing-less deck and seeped into the back of his shirt.

A wail rose up and down erratically in his head.

_Mine Mine Mine MINE It's MINE_

Strangely, it didn't sound so hungry anymore. But more something verging on anger. Deep, terrible anger.

Seras was on her side only a few inches away, having just pulled herself up as well, utterly bewildered. Alucard continued staring at him.

 _Take a picture, why don't you._ Pip thought, somewhat uncharitably in his stressful state. It was around the last coherent thought he had before Alucard's eyes suddenly flashed, face warping in shock.

Seras promptly whipped around. The look she gave him froze his blood.

"PIP, GET AWAY FROM—!"

Something cool and wet curled around his shin. Pip blinked.

Alucard and Seras charged for him at the same time, pallid hands reaching out. Icy fingertips grazed his arm before he was ripped from the deck.

Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the shell rising from the waves, smooth and bone-white under the moon, where it was once putrid and black and webbed with cracks.

 _Mine._ The voice crooned in Pip's head, as a great mouth yawned open below, water sliding down and down into darkness.

_Mine._

A shadowed figure dived after him, but he was already falling, falling…

\---

The one who comes for you, _Mère had said,_ Comes to take away the sounds of your world.

___

**11:44 pm**

___

"How much longer?" Integra demanded, staring a hole into her wristwatch.

"We'll be approaching Dorset in another fifteen minutes, ma'am," the pilot relayed, trying to hide his discomfort as she practically hovered over his seat.

Integra crossed her arms, lips pursing into a flat line. "I want us there in ten."

She ignored his stumbling affirmative, her eyes on the night sky as it streamed past the windshield in ribbons of dark blue. There wasn't a cloud in sight and the moon was bright and full like a new coin. No winds either. The waters should be as calm as the forecast had predicted.

Yet she was feeling nervous. In retrospect, all the little miscalculations on her part were beginning to come to light. She should've gotten a better view of the situation first, found out exactly what they were facing. She should've personally checked for lifejackets one final time.

All inexcusable mistakes.

Integra's hands clenched into fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms.

_If the boat sinks, I'll have to drag the bay,_ some distant part of her was already thinking, _I'll have to drag the bay for him—_

"Try not to worry too much, Sir Integra," Walter said from behind her, where he was seated.

Integra blinked, turning around to frown at her butler.

"I'm not worried."

It was too dark in the cabin to be certain, but she could've sworn Walter rolled his eyes at her.

"I know he does not exactly give off the impression of grace on most days," he said, tapping away at the laptop in his hands, "But rest assured, there is nothing clumsy about Alucard when it matters."

Integra's eyelid twitched.

"Walter, I just told you I wasn't worried, didn't I?" she said, barely keeping herself from snapping, "If anything, it's Seras I'd be more concerned about."

The expression on Walter's face was strangely irritating. While his features were mostly blank, a twinkle of amusement persisted in his eyes, making him seem far younger than he was.

"Ah yes, Miss Victoria is the more pressing issue, isn't she? And are we not even going to spare a thought for poor Captains Bernadotte and Blade? One is deaf and the other is…not the most prepared for these type of situations."

Integra's eyes narrowed cautiously.

"Neither of them should be engaging in much combat. If it's like any other beast, it'll focus on the target most obvious to it."

"Of course, ma'am, my apologies," she'd never heard him sound less sorry in her life, "It is the most obvious target we should be concerned about, isn't it?"

The eyelid twitched again.

"If you have so much time to speculate on my current thoughts, Walter," she said curtly, "Then I'll assume you've found something on the creature."

"Actually," he said, surprising her, his eyes back on the computer screen, "I do believe there might be some potential here."

"What?" Integra walked over briskly, much to the pilot's relief.

"This, my lady," Walter turned the laptop to give her a better view, "The girl's description was a bit lacking, I'm afraid, but the typical behavior matches perfectly."

Integra's brow rose at the image that greeted her. It vaguely resembled an overgrown garden snail, with random squid parts thrown in, and was a strange mixture of orange and green. Large white spikes jutted out of its barnacle-ridden shell with several fish impaled upon the tips. _Lovely._

"The artist of this painting claimed to have spotted it along the North Sea coast of France. That would be in the 1750s and its last sighting," Walter was saying, "According to local myths and lore, the creature often rested in coral reef beds and pulled down swimmers. It could eat anything, but was rather, ahem, partial to young women."

Integra's eyes narrowed. It certainly seemed to fit with the past few disappearances. However…

"It vanished over two centuries ago and suddenly materializes in the bay," she muttered, "Where could it have been?"

"Hard to say," Walter replied, seeming to have been thinking the same thing, "To be honest, I find it hard to believe it could have even survived until now."

"What?" Integra looked up at him, "Explain."

"Well, the lore says it relies mostly on hearing to find prey. And in the last sighting, its ears had not been…in the best condition."

Walter scrolled down to another painting as he spoke. Integra's eyes widened.

Two large gaping holes hung wide open on either side of its slimy, misshapen head, as if someone had taken chainsaws to it. Instead of blood, the artist had put in long trails of black ink, seeping out of the wounds and into the waves. Its shell was cracked in several places and Integra thought she could almost hear its moans echoing through time.

"My God, what happened to it?"

"I'm afraid there's no further information on that, my lady," Walter said, "There were some scattered accounts of it being seen in inland swamps the years prior, but none of them were very credible."

"And what is credibility worth in this line of work?" Integra said simply, still studying the image. Something. Something was definitely nagging at her.

"The North Sea coast where it was last spotted…doesn't that seem odd?"

"How so, ma'am?"

Before Integra could reply however, the pilot suddenly announced their arrival in Dorset.

"We're on due course to Studland Bay now, Sir Integra, Mr. Dornez."

Immediately, Integra stood again, thought forgotten and headed back to the cockpit so she could get a better view of the town below.

"Well done, Walter," she said over her shoulder, "Keep digging, I want to know everything you can find on this thing."

"Of course, Sir Integra."

Bowing, he was about to turn back to the laptop, when Integra suddenly spoke again.

"What is it called by the way?"

He looked up and Integra's gaze was on him, calm and waiting.

"It has several names," he said, "But I believe the most popular is Lou Carcolh."

___

**11:59 pm**

___

Something was digging into his skin.

Pip moaned, groping his way back to the light switch of consciousness.

It was pitch black, he first realized, and wet.

He made the mistake of breathing in and nearly passed out all over again if the hand on his wrist hadn't tightened. Pip coughed, trying not to gag. The stench was thick and seemed to curl beneath his clothes, reeking of rotted flesh and salt. Christ, where the fu—

"…wait…" Pip froze," "…hand…?"

He looked up slowly.

A pair of milky-white eyes stared down at him, floating in the darkness.

"Mignonette?"

And the past fifteen minutes came flooding back. Pip's eye darted every which way, like a panicked ant beneath hand lens. It was dark, it was wet, it stunk…

"Shit…" Pip whispered, breath coming too fast, "Oh, _shit_ …."

Before he could skitter over the edge into hyperventilation, Seras clenched his wrist again, this time more insistently. He jolted at the surprisingly sharp pain and turned his head.

Her floating eyes were narrowed now, searing with determination. They were opaque and sightless, but he could practically read words in the gaze.

_Get a grip. You're fine._

Pip burst out laughing, perhaps a tad hysterically.

"Yeah, everything's peachy!"

But he took a deep breath (through his mouth mind you) and tried to calm down, the small cold nails digging into his wrist strangely grounding him.

_So I've been eaten by a giant sea snail. Alright. Worse things have happened._

Shifting, Pip tried in vain to look around, though nothing but thick blackness greeted him. He couldn't even see his own hand when he waved it in front of his face. The smell seemed to be wafting up from somewhere below him and he could feel things hiss around the soles of his feet.

 _Oh,_ Pip thought blankly, _That must be the stomach down there._

"Okay," he breathed, "Okay, let's review. I'm alive. First question I had was how is that possible, but since that's pretty obvious, I guess a better one is how _the fuck_ are we still alive right now?"

Before Seras could even attempt to give an answer, there was a sudden trembling. That was the only way to describe it really. Everything trembled.

Whatever he was hanging over the edge of (and he tried not to think too hard about that) shuddered so violently he was amazed they weren't both bucked off. Something wet and viscous began dripping and congealing around his body.

"Wha—"

The mouth, or what Pip assumed was the mouth anyway, abruptly opened, like someone had pried it apart by force.  
New fresh air swept in, whipping Pip's hair off his face and thankfully abating much of the smell. A great sphere of light melted into view from beyond him, a cool shade of pale blue.

It took him a minute to realize it was the moon.

Seras's form was haloed under its beams and he could see her crouching silhouette above him. The edges of her lips were moving, but the rest of her face, save her eyes, were swathed in shadows and he couldn't make any of it out.  
Not that he really focused on that for long anyway.

Flickering lashes of crimson and black shadows were gliding in from the outside, spearing into surrounding flesh. Pip choked, pain lacing across his body, as a deep feral moan reverberated in his head.

Everything shook again, and the entire cavern of the beast's mouth seemed to pull upward. Pip saw the moon draw closer as seawater tossed and sloshed in from outside.

The shadowy tendrils flickered and Pip cursed as he felt their hooks deepen into his own skin the more the beast struggled.

He swallowed, unsure if he was imagining the tiny red eyes blinking in the shadows. "Is that…Mr. Alucard?"

Seras gave him a very distraught look.

"Oh," Pip nodded dumbly, "alright then…" And a small detached corner of him wondered, not for the first time, when any of this stopped being shocking.

"Let's get the fuck out of here."

Seras's grip tightened again as if in agreement. Carefully, she maneuvered herself onto her knees, getting into a better position to pull him up. There was more jostling outside and the walls of flesh around them vibrated.

Foul-smelling slime rained down from above and a glob landed directly on their hands. Pip could feel Seras bristle and felt a quick, sharp pang of fear that she was going to panic and let go of him.

All she did, however, was readjust her position. Shifting her weight, she was about to pull him up completely, when he heard it begin to mutter.

_No no NO. Let go. LET GO. It's mine. MINE._

A few inches from Seras's right foot, a spot of flesh pulsed and began to grow. Pip's eye widened, but before he could even open his mouth, the whisper came. Moist, phantom breath curled against the edge of his ear.

You _gave it to me, remember?_

Pip's voice choked in his throat. A raw, piercing terror tore up from his bones, from the place that remembered curling next to fires and hearing things move in the dark.

_I know why you came, little human. It said. You want it back._

The walls shook again, more violently than before. Alucard's shadows swelled, flickering like wildfire as they continued pulling upwards.

_I can't give it to you._

The scent of salt grew thinner, as if they were being lifted out of the water entirely.

_YOU NEED TO DIE!_

Its voice echoed in Pip's skull, in the space behind his eyes.

And then Seras's brilliant, brilliant blood splattered half across his face. It dripped down his temple slowly, unbelievably cold. Pip didn't breathe.

A thick, razor edged spike was protruding clean out of her right calf, shredding through muscle and bone. He couldn't hear her scream, but he did see her pupils shrink and her lips part. The sight alone would haunt his sleep for quite some time.

And then she crumpled, falling hard on her stomach. Amazingly, she somehow kept her grip of his hand, though both of them slid forward a good inch, until Seras's entire front was hanging off the edge too.

But Pip barely noticed any of that. Glowing crimson blood spurted from Seras's leg like a broken fountain, the droplets vanishing as soon they hit the black flesh around them. Gleaming webs of red veins shined in the dark as Seras's blood was soaked in.

It shuddered—the cavern of its mouth, the walls of flesh, everything seemed to quake. A moan of inhuman pleasure vibrated in Pip's head, making his skin crawl.

Then it tugged anew against Alucard's shadowy hold and nearly freed itself. Pip knew this because they were almost thrown down into the abyss of its stomach.

" _Shit!_ " Pip pressed himself as far back from the pit as he could, as Seras scrambled to keep them from falling. Her face was a mix of pain and shock, a particularly sickly pale against what moonlight filtered in.

Alucard's shadows flared, clamping down hard enough Pip swore there were bloody grooves being dug into his own skin as well. Yet the smell of saltwater only grew stronger. It was when Pip spotted the barest glimpses of the bay outside that he realized it was truly about to worm its way free.

_And if it does while we're still in here….if it tries to dive…_

They needed to get out.

"Seras, can you move?" he asked, yelled really, since he had no idea if he could even be heard.

She was already trying to lift herself up again, gingerly bracing herself on her bloody leg. Her right knee buckled instantly.

"I can't," she said, light washing over her practically queasy face, and she shook her head, "I can't, it _hurts._ "

"Alright," Pip said quickly, trying his best to squeeze her hand with numb fingers, "No problem. I'll think of something."

Though that was definitely easier said than done. Pip's gaze shifted frantically around them, trying to find some kind of leverage to help pull himself up with. The moonlight was considerably dimmer now as the creature's mouth tried to force its way shut and as bay water began flowing in, they were almost plunged fully back into darkness.

Thus, it was by sheer coincidence that Pip caught sight of it.

There, on the far side of the wall of flesh, across the expansive hole leading down into the stomach. It was gray and gnarled patch, marred with large jagged scars even as the surrounding skin grew whole and pink from Seras's blood.

Pip half-wondered if they'd be able to cut their way out through it. He squinted.

At the center was a strange dark shape, almost like a marking. A faint auburn glow outlined it, barely visible against the pale moonlight. Something like a crown was on its misshapen head.

And then Pip realized what the shape was.

"What the fuck is happening," he muttered, hysterical laughter bubbling in his throat.

A rooster.


	23. Chapter 19

Seras's leg was on fire.

Sharp pain streaked up the front and back of her calf, intensifying to a scorching point beneath her knee. The muscles felt shredded, the bone shattered. Strange orange splotches had begun sprouting in the vision of her third eye, blotting out Pip's aura and the strands of moonlight from outside.

The stench was helping nothing. Pip said something else to her, but it had flown right over her head. She was nearly certain she was going to faint.

 _Don't let go,_ Alucard suddenly warned, _He's worth more than both of us combined right now._

Seras didn't bother trying to decode that.

_I wasn't…planning to…Oh, bloody….God, it hurts…it hurts…this is it, this is how it ends…_

A scoff echoed in her head. _Perhaps if you weren't so shriveled up from lack of blood you wouldn't be having these problems._

There it was. Her leg would probably need to be sawed off with a silver Kaye and Sons and Alucard was still finding flaws to criticize.

_Oh, stop it. I was stabbed too, wasn't I? It's hardly worth all your dramatics._

Seras twitched and if not for her debilitating agony, would've kindly informed him that his comparison did not make as much sense as he thought it did.

_Are you…ever…going to tell us…what's going on…Master?_

She was probably being snippier than she should be, but bloody hell, she needed to be filled in at some point!

The memory of Alucard's shock pulsing through the mind link was still vivid, as stark as an icy stream.

 _Grab him!_ He'd thundered in her head, _GRAB HIM!_

She had obeyed blindly, flying towards Pip without another thought. The edge of his arm grazed her fingers, before she was suddenly groping thin air. In her murky vision, she saw the outline of a tentacle.

Pip hadn't screamed—there probably hadn't been time to—but she had dived after him anyway and by some insane miracle caught him. The whole thing would have looked rather cool actually, if they hadn't been eaten in the process.

 _Alright, I suppose we are a bit pressed for time._ Alucard said, _To put it simply, he is the only one who can kill it._

Seras blinked.

_Pardon?_

Something her master couldn't get rid of? What on earth had Sir Integra sent them after?

 _Oh, I assure you, I am perfectly capable of "getting rid of it,"_ a dark chuckle echoed in her head, and Seras suppressed a shudder, _But it won't stay that way. Not as long as Mr. Bernadotte keeps the path back to this world open for it._

Seras's eyes widened. _What?_

 _It has been linked to him,_ her master said, _Somehow, a part of Mr. Bernadotte has been sealed into this stinking carcass._

That…actually made a lot of sense. Seras's thoughts went back to Pip shivering in pain on the deck as Alucard had shot at the beast, the strange things he said to her right before the attack, and the dreams he described.

The monster was using Pip as a lifeline. From that perspective, all the pieces fit except…

 _Then why…_ She dug her nails into the fleshy ground as they slid forward again, _is it trying…to kill him?_

 _Hmm, don't know._ Alucard's flippant voice echoed. Seras twitched, but he continued before she could comment.

_Well, this is just a pet theory of mine, but I believe it's quite terrified Mr. Bernadotte has come to…"collect" so to speak._

Miraculously, Seras actually understood what he meant. _You mean take back the part of him sealed away? He can do that?_

_Is that surprising? It was his to begin with. The seal mark should be on it somewhere._

Seras was quiet for a beat, the pain of her leg fading into the background with this new information to mull over. Her brow furrowed.

_What exactly did it take from him, Master? When did it happen?_

_The same time it happened to us as well._

Before Seras could absorb that, the beast suddenly started thrashing again, making the inner walls of its mouth shake.

 _This is getting rather annoying,_ Alucard muttered in her head, _Since you're in there anyway, hurry up and find the seal._  
Seras gaped. _What?! I don't even know what it looks like! Or where to start!_

_Magic cannot be touched by change. Wherever the seal lies, the flesh around it is still old and unhealed. Try the ear canal._

_…The ear canal?_

Below her, Pip suddenly laughed. "What the fuck is happening."

Seras's eyes widened at how hysterical he sounded and she tried to hoist him up a bit more, thinking the strange fumes were getting to him.

"Captain, are you—"

"Hey, mignonette, I know you're hurting and I'm sorry, but I don't think I'm gonna be much help with the escaping," he laughed again, still vaguely high-pitched, "There must be something toxic in here, I swear. That thing looks like a rooster."

With a burst of strength, Seras pulled him up.

___

Pip nearly yelped as he was suddenly tugged upwards, the hand clenching around his wrist almost bone-grinding. His feet struggled quickly for purchase on the slick fleshy ground as Seras's face came into view in the flickering shadows. She was white as bone and trembling from pain, but her glazed eyes were wide.

"That's the one!" her mouth moved, "That's the seal!"

Pip blinked.

"What?"

There was a cacophonous roar and the walls of meat around them shook. More slime dripped onto their hair and shoulders, but neither of them noticed this time.

"The seal!" Seras grabbed his shoulders, "Listen, Pip, you need to…"

The monster's mouth shut, sealing them in darkness before he could finish reading her lips. A flare of crimson glowed in the black and the mouth was pried open again, pale moonlight flooding in. It was dim though, and Seras's face flashed on and off before him, distorting her words.

"…now…break…too late…where…destroy!"

Pip stared, not knowing what to do. Destroy? Destroy what? His eye slid to the rooster-shaped marking, huge and wrinkled above them—only half of it visible as it was concealed in some kind of fleshy tunnel. On a second glance, it wasn't just some trick of the scar tissue—the rooster was definitely there. The design too, looked almost familiar.

"The rooster thing? Do you mean that? Is it that, Seras?!"

_CRUNCH_

Seras's head suddenly snapped around, her lips parted in the light as her pupils shrunk in terror.

"Master, you can't let go—!"

The jaws of the monster slammed shut, throwing them into pitch darkness as a mind-shattering roar erupted in Pip's head, making stars blossom in his vision. The voice hissed out again, guttural, angry and somewhere further below, desperate.

_Enough, little human, the deathless ones cannot save you._

_Give up and die_

_DIE_

Seawater suddenly gushed in, flooding the mouth. Pip yelled as his feet were blown out from under him and almost choked when the water went up his nose and mouth. Instantly, they were swept off the edge of the giant tongue. In a flickering moment of light from the outside, he saw Seras dive and catch his wrist, before her other hand reached for something else to grab.

She missed.

They plummeted and Pip's heart sailed up into his throat as he felt the heat of acid below them, creeping over his soaked skin.

 _It will be quick,_ the monster whispered, _It will not hurt._

As if he could be convinced to let himself be eaten. Pip sucked in a breath—there was no time for questions or thoughts or wondering how loud he had to be to be heard. He simply settled for screaming himself hoarse.

"TWELVE METERS, FORTY DEGREES TO THE LEFT!"

Without even a moment of pause, the hand on his wrist clenched. In one violent, haphazard swing, Seras threw Pip upwards, pegging him like a baseball.

The wind screamed past Pip's face, his braid a long heavy weight behind him. Pain pounded his skull from how hard he was clenching his teeth, but he paid it no mind. The great rooster seal came racing toward him, growing bigger by the millisecond.

 _NO!_ The beast shrieked, _NOnoNONOno! I WON'T GIVE IT BACK! I WON'TIWON'TIWON'T!_

_YOU HAVE TO DIE!_

Pip yanked his knife from the sheath in his jacket, raising it high over his head.

_Right back at you, fucker._

And then he rammed the blade into the center of the seal. Some small, detached part of him marveled at how easy it slid in. Like it had always been meant to be there. The monster screamed, with a sound that transcended all earthly agony.

Black, rancid blood sprayed out in a mist all over Pip's sleeves. As fresh and revived as it had seemed on the outside, the scent of death had remained with the beast.

_NO_

The voice echoed, filled with shock and pain. And something like grief.

_No…_

Then liquid fire poured into Pip's ears, as pain like nothing he had felt in this world wracked his body.

Somewhere, a woman's voice hissed.

_…so boy, you want it back this desperately then?_

With a guttural scream, Pip's hands flew up to claw at his temples, releasing his hold on the knife's handle. He didn't realize he was falling until an arm had already caught him, steely and cold.

Pip looked up, blinking dazedly as black splotches crowded his vision. Alucard's pale, moonlit face looked back at him, his expression bemused, almost impressed. Pip wondered if he was hallucinating.

The distant sound of helicopter blades came from outside and a bright beam of light shined into the dead beast's mouth, engulfing them. It was the only reason he managed to spot her.

Curled under Alucard's other arm, a soaked, exhausted and bleeding Seras smiled at him. Pip stared, and even as oblivion began pulling him down he thought he heard it. That sound he thought he'd never hear again.

"You did it, Pip."

___

**12:19 am**

___  
_About half a kilometer away, in a lavish hotel perched at the edge of the bay's rocky shore, Lord Anguis sat before the window with his hands folded._

_His narrow, icy green eyes gazed out to the rolling waves._

_The Carcolh had perished. Its massive, decaying body sinking into the depths for the fish to feast on. Fitting, he supposed. For all of Kanna's insistence otherwise, he knew that beast had been made for the sea. The artificial body she had created for it had fit poorly, like a mask tight enough to cut into skin and which hid nothing all the same._

_They had all been like that. All those monsters she had collected over the centuries and tried to call her own. None of them had ever envied or desired the immortal beauty of vampires. At least not in the way Kanna had._

_A soft scoff escaped Anguis at the thought. It was nearly pathetic how desperate she was. How utterly blind._

_The vampire was not a creature that could be produced from spells and runes. It was a genuine antique, all imitations of it poor and ill-conceived. This was something his family had spent countless years and blood money to understand. A thing like Kanna, broken and flawed, could not have hoped to compare._

_Anguis remembered the Hellsing vampire standing in the Langham's hall, the soul-stopping terror of the encounter keeping the memory stark. He could still see its crimson eyes, its silken raven hair and ageless white skin._

_Beautiful._

_It had been so beautiful._

_And so strong. Power like that should not be left in England's hands._

_Or a wench's hands for that matter._

_Anguis's fingers dug into the wood of the armchair. He had underestimated the Hellsing woman. She had clearly been more perceptive than he originally gave her credit for. Caution would be needed from now on._

_No matter what, she could not find a way to trace Kanna back to him. It could not happen. He would sooner throw France to the fires of war than let it. At the very least, he was thankful they thought the House had burned down permanently._

_Anguis's teeth gnashed._

_It was just that damn marking._

_The image of the rooster on that vampire's neck had haunted him all last night. It was the sign of Kanna's curse, he was certain of that, but why then had the creature been able to see and hear? Had it simply been too strong for the curse to keep hold of?_

_A fist clenched, nails digging into skin._

_The mark alone would not explain much or be linked back to him. But the second pin was also still missing and despite having men comb the forest and swamp for days now, not a single trace of it had been found._

_The idea that Hellsing had managed to get their hands on it was too chilling to examine._

_A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts._

_"Mon signeur?"_

_"Entrez," Anguis said, irritated._

_The door clicked open and the little dog of a former DST agent slipped in._

_"B-Bonsoir, Signeur Anguis, I hope I am not interrupting."_

_"What is it, petit chien?" Anguis snapped, not bothering to turn around. Ever since Jean Petit had gotten himself killed by a pair of overexcited idiots at the Langham, he'd had to endure this stuttering mess of a new boy._

_"A…A man has come to see you, monsieur. He says you owe him for the forgeries."_

_Anguis turned, looking at the trembling boy. Ah, he had forgotten all about that._

_"Yes, send him in," he said, eyes sliding back to the window. He may as well deal with this now. The helicopter had vanished into the sky almost ten minutes ago. There would not be any more entertainment tonight._

_The boy went to open the door wider, only to be nearly run over by a pale, sweating man. He half-stumbled into the room, coming to the center of the carpet, where he attempted to straighten._

_"Lord Anguis, I must demand you fulfill your end of the bargain," he said, his hands fiddling with the sleeves of his trench coat, "S-Sir Integra has ordered an inspection of the vehicle and equipment records, if she finds out I faked those signatures—"_

_"Ah, rest assured, mon ami," Anguis said, standing with a sharp smile, "I always honor deals made. But why such fear, if I may ask? Surely the Round Table could do no worse than a swift request for resignation."_

_"She would never accept that!" the man cried, his nerve breaking, "They may let me resign on paper, but Sir Integra…if she learns it's me, she'll never let that happen. S-She'll send those monsters after me and I..."_

_The man trailed off, his face paling another shade._

_"Please, you have to take me out of London. Out of England," he begged, almost on the edge of tears._

_Anguis's eyes narrowed. "Very well."_

_He snapped his fingers and his assistant hurried in again, pulling out a white envelope._

_"This is a letter I have written to the Director of the DST. It will secure your passage to Paris in the early morning tomorrow with no questions asked. Once you've arrived and gotten situated, I will send someone to discuss the conditions for your future employment as a member of my cabinet."_

_The man snatched up the letter, nearly crinkling the paper in his eagerness._

_"T-Thank you, my lord! Thank you!"_

_Anguis smiled again, all teeth._

_"Not at all, mon ami. I should be thanking you for your valuable services. Please, see yourself out."_

_The man rushed to obey, bowing all the while as he backed out of the room. It wasn't until the door clicked and the shuffle of footsteps faded away that Anguis sat back in his chair again._

_"Make a note, petit chien," he said, unblinking, "Have someone pick him up and send him to La Tremoille. A room is reserved already."_

_"Yes, mon signeur."_

_"And also let them know, once he's inside and night falls, that it'll be fine to kill him."_

_The boy dropped his pen._

_"M-Monsieur? But what about the deal?"_

_"I dislike loose threads," Anguis said simply, "Go do it."_

_The boy squeaked an affirmative and hurried out, leaving him in silence once more. Anguis folded his hands. He had hoped taking the lifejackets from the boat would give the Carcolh an edge, perhaps shed some light on the strange placement of the curse seal on the Hellsing vampire—another mystery that he could not piece together._

_In all the victims of the curse on record, the marking had always been on the chest without exception._

_Something was very different this time, though Anguis didn't focus on it for the moment. Another thought had entered his head, one that had begun to prod at him. The man, the soon-to-be-dead one, what he had said…_

__She'll send those monsters after me.

_Monsters?_

_Anguis's gnashed his teeth, beads of cold sweat collecting along his hairline._

_Just how many monsters did Hellsing have?_

___

**4:56 pm**

___

Pip woke to the feeling of a jackhammer against his skull.

"Ugh," a hand made its way to his face, mopping down the front. He was in his bed, but he couldn't quite remember how he'd ended up there. The scattered pieces of his memory were reassembling wrong, (or had to be anyway since he kept getting flashes of being carried by _Alucard_ ), while his bone-dry mouth almost cracked from lack of moisture.

It was like one of the worst hangovers of his life.

With some effort, Pip rolled out of bed and staggered to the dresser for a water bottle. He was in the middle of relieving his parched throat when raucous laughter suddenly broke out in the common room outside.

"And then he took out his knife and cut his way out of there! Like that scene from bloody Sharknado!" came Silford's voice.

Someone else snorted. "I still can't believe he got himself eaten at all. You'd think that he'd just stay out of the fighting with both of those vampires there."

"Suppose that's one way of gettin' a girl's attention," another added and laughter broke out again.

Pip's hand flew to his head as the noise worsened his already splitting headache. Couldn't those goddamn idiots keep it down for once?

Eye twitching, he stomped to the door and slammed it open.

"CAN YOU MORONS SHUT THE HELL UP?"

The men all jumped, some tumbling completely off the couch. Silford leaped to his feet in surprise.

"Cap'em!"

Pip glared.

"Christ, Silford, would it kill you to just turn on the game or something? This isn't the fuckin' pub! I could hear all your ugly voices right through the walls…"

He trailed off. Silford was grinning at him. In fact, all the men were.

Pip blinked.

___

**4:36 pm**

___

Integra set down the Round Table's latest budget proposal with a defeated sigh. She had been trying and failing to read it for the past fifteen minutes now, her mind constantly wandering back to the events of yesterday night.

After they had managed to pick the group up by helicopter and return to the manor, Integra had been too busy calling Doctor Trevilian again for Pip and dealing with the hysterics of Captain Blade (who was already requesting resignation) to get a proper report of what had happened.

By the time she was finally able to look away, Alucard was already gone, having swept Seras into the basement alongside him.

Integra let them be, figuring they deserved a rest and also needing the time to get herself sorted. She had had calls to make, excuses to come up with and all the new information Walter had gathered on the trip to parse through.

But now the sun was at the horizon once again and another more insistent thought came to the forefront.

She owed them an apology.

All of them. It had been careless and irresponsible to send them off on a mission she had had so little information about. Even more so, because it had put them in such a compromising position. Blade and Bernadotte could have died while her vampires sunk to the bottom of the bay.

Yes, an apology was definitely due. If not more. Her pride could afford the blow.

With that, Integra pushed herself up from her desk and walked out of the office, thinking to stretch her legs while she waited for them all to wake.

The hall was thankfully empty, with no servants to nag at her about skipping lunch today or going through an entire pack of cigars. She swore Walter had them trained too well. The butler himself hadn't been seen all day, having disappeared to deal with the media aftermath of the mission.

How he planned to have the Round Table spin this was beyond her, but he had offered to do the task and she personally had no problem transferring the chore of talking to those power-hungry fools to someone else.

 _They'll probably take his suggestions more readily anyway,_ she thought, with no trace amount of bitterness.

It was no secret the Round Table had not been pleased with her father's choice in successor. Whether it was age or gender or both, they had always held her in contempt, as if the position had not simply been foisted upon her. As if she had asked for…any of this.

Integra frowned, surprised at the amount of self-pity in that thought.

_This is what happens when you finally do get some peace. You start thinking too much._

She sighed, dipping into her pocket for her cigar case and was just about to light up when faint voices reached her ears. Integra looked up and in the still and fading noon light she could catch it emanating from the main sitting room.

_Probably just the servants. Or they left the television on by accident._

Still, curiosity peaked, she walked over. The room was in complete darkness, with the curtains drawn tight and all the lamps off. The only source of light came from the telescreen, which gave off a pale, eerie glow that washed over the furniture and walls.

Sitting on the carpet in front of the couch was a long, black lump.

Integra blinked.

"Alucard?"

The lump moved and after a moment, crimson eyes glowed across the expanse at her. He grinned, not the least bit surprised.

Integra's eyebrow arched.

"I thought you would be sleeping," she said, walking in, "What are you doing here?"

Alucard's eyes slid to the screen for a moment before coming back to her. Integra looked and was surprised to see Sir Penwood standing at a microphone-laden podium. Two other members of the council were next to him and it seemed to be a live feed of a televised conference.

"…a-and so we thus conclude that recent attacks along Studland Bay have not been caused by sharks, as previously assumed—"

Sir Penwood mopped his brow.

"—But by an exceptionally rare breed of sea snail. These creatures have developed venomous stingers over the bloody course of evolution, and are three times the size of their…garden variety cohorts. Victims stung by these snails experience immediate paralysis, followed by organ rupture and a slow disintegration of the body in order for the snail to…nourish itself on the deceased's juices."

At this point, Sir Penwood looked vaguely green, but the reporters seemed to be lapping it up. A few of them fired questions about the sudden appearance of this "sea snail," but most were more concerned over whether Studland Bay would need to be closed down permanently or not.  
Integra was amazed.

For a man nearing his seventies, Walter had quite a juvenile sense of humor. She wasn't sure if she should be angry at him or not for messing around with the integrity of the English government.

Alucard was far less conflicted. Cackling silently, he clapped his hands in glee and by all accounts looked marvelously entertained. Integra rolled her eyes. Men truly never grew up.

"I suppose Sir Islands will be yelling at me over the phone tomorrow," she muttered, sliding onto the couch, "There goes my entire morning."

Alucard grinned. A tendril of his inky hair reached out, giving her a condescending pat on the knee. Integra snorted and flicked it away.

"Sympathy from the devil. Lovely," she said, but reached out to pet his head, running her fingers through the silken locks.

Alucard purred with pleasure, his eyes drooping. Sometimes, she liked to think he sat on the floor all the time because it was the perfect height for petting (his colossal size not allowing it otherwise).

It wasn't why and she knew that, yes, but sometimes she liked to pretend she didn't.

Abraham's journals had spoken about showing Alucard his place, starving and beating him to the point of near death if he presumed to step out of it. No direct mention was made of where this so-called "place" was, but seeing as it took her nearly twelve years to convince Alucard to even sit in a chair, Integra had a pretty good idea.

A deep frown tugged at her lips. Despite his nature, Alucard was not an animal and his treatment by her ancestors had been…repulsive. Cruel.

 _Wrong,_ she thought and her eyes fell over the seal at the base of Alucard's throat.

Integra took a deep, quiet breath.

"Alucard," she said, "I'm sorry."

He looked up immediately at her, eyes snapping open from where they had almost drifted shut. Confusion riddled their blood-red pools.

"I should have gotten all the facts straight before sending you on that mission," Integra explained, brushing a thumb over the seal, "It was careless and a failure on my part as your master."

Alucard was silent. Well, what else could he be, but he did not move. Integra didn't look at him, staring at the seal instead. In the glowing light, the rooster was dark and contorted, as painful-looking as the Hellsing ones on his hands.

Integra pushed away the sudden well of sorrow opening up in her.  
What good was it to feel so much for a creature like him? It did neither of them any favors.

_Thud_

Integra's head flew up, startled out of her thoughts. Alucard was sitting next to her on the couch. His eyes were narrowed and he was leaning in, so close she could note the stillness of his dead, un-beating chest.

"What?" she asked, unconsciously leaning backwards, _"What?"_

He made no move to answer her. Instead, his eyes drifted over her body, an action that would have been lewd, if not for how serious his expression was, as if he were scanning it for problems. After a moment, he looked up at her again.

Integra blinked, puzzled.

It clicked a second later when Alucard suddenly raised a long, icy hand and plopped it onto her forehead.

She twitched.

"I'm not ill, you asshole!" she snapped, throwing his hand off. Alucard laughed—a quiet breathless sound—and leaned against the arm of the couch, his shoulders trembling. Mischief twinkled in his eyes.

A blush nearly surfaced on Integra's cheeks, before she managed to will it away.

"Damn it, Alucard," she sighed, tucking hair behind her ear, "I am trying to apologize to you."

Alucard just smiled. Some part of it seemed to soften. He sat up again from where he'd been sprawled out in a heap and nodded.

_I accept._

Unable to think of anything else, Integra nodded back, a rather awkward mix of relief and discomfort tumbling around in her chest.

"There was no need to make a production out of it," she said, crossing her arms.

His smile was unchanged. Perhaps it even softened a bit more. There was something so achingly human about it that Integra could not look away. It occurred to her suddenly that they were still pressed close enough to touch.

"Alucard," she said, the name slipping through her air-tight lips, "I don't—"

She was cut off by an earth-shattering scream.

"IT'S BACK!" Pip's elated voice rocketed up the three floors, "HELL FUCKING YEAH BABY, IT'S BACK!"

Integra nearly fell off the couch and Alucard jolted backwards, caught off guard in a rare moment.

"What the hell?" Integra muttered and got up, the moment long forgotten.

With some haste, she headed to the stairs. An unknowingly disgruntled Alucard followed after.


	24. Chapter 20

In hindsight, he wasn't actually sure how things had ended up transpiring this way. Images of darkness and rancid smells hovered in the stream of Pip's memory, lighted up occasionally by the moon or Seras's face. There had been a lot of slime, he remembered, and a giant scar in the shape of a rooster which he had ended up knifing. As for why that resulted in sudden auditory awareness again, he still had no idea.

Though honestly, he didn't care. Pip was just glad to be anywhere but a stomach and right now, between Clouds Nine and Ten suited him fine.

After his squad had finished pounding him on the back several times and cracking more jokes about how weird the entire situation had been, they'd decided a good pint or twenty was in order. Silford at least was dead-set on it, claiming it was the least he owed him after ruining his flamethrower. Given the past four days however, Pip felt he deserved a bit of a goddamn celebration anyway.

He might have even gone a little overboard, becoming so elated at the mere sound of the men wondering if he'd foot their bill that he enthusiastically agreed to do so.

It was only after Integra had marched down and thrown open the barracks' doors that he remembered he was technically still at work.

"What's going on here?" she snapped, and the men shuffled back slightly in surprise.

They full on backed into the wall when Alucard materialized behind her, looking twice as pissed for some reason. Pip couldn't even find it in himself to be scared.

"Boss! Mr. Alucard!" he exclaimed and to the jaw-dropping shock of his entire squad, ran up to them, "I think the spell or whatever broke! I can hear again!"

"So we've gathered," Integra said flatly, "Though it seems you were the receiver of an exclusive deal."

At Pip's confused look, she made a vague gesture over her shoulder at a silent and moody Alucard, who was busy staring at the anxious Geese. He didn't stop until Integra literally elbowed him in the chest, making Pip wince since he could imagine how much her elbow was smarting now.

"Damn, I'm sorry, sir," he said, feeling awkward all of a sudden, "I wonder if Migonette is still the same too."

"I'd hazard most likely, Captain Bernadotte."

They all blinked, turning to the doorway where Walter had suddenly materialized. A thick packet of papers was in one of his hands as he nudged Alucard aside slightly, slipping into the room.

Integra crossed her arms. "Quite a story you've conjured up for the media, Walter."

A small, but conspicuously mischievous smile quirked at Walter's lips and she was floored by how much of a teenage schoolboy he resembled in that instant.

"Ah, yes, well, one needs to have fun when one can," he said, not sounding guilty in the least.

Integra sighed. "I hope you won't make a habit of it," she said, "We need to at least pretend the government knows what it's doing."

"Of course, ma'am, my apologies."

He shot a glance at Alucard though, who grinned, looking fantastically amused in a normal way for once. Pip almost felt curious himself about what had been said at the conference.

"In any case, I've finished compiling all the information I've gathered, Sir Integra," Walter continued, "Some of which I believe will give us a fair idea of what we're dealing with."

At this, Integra's eyebrows rose. "Oh? I'm glad to hear it," she said, "Maybe now we can finally get this damn meeting underway."

Snapping her fingers, she gave Alucard a look which had him phasing through the floorboards, no doubt to fetch Seras. She then turned to Pip.

"I'm afraid your night out will have to be postponed, Mr. Bernadotte," Integra said, sounding faintly apologetic. Pip shrugged, waving his hand at the men to send them off without him.

"'s fine, Boss. Not to sound blunt, but I kind of want to know what the hell happened to us too."

___

Seras yawned, rotating her shoulder to ease out the tension. In the painfully long and varied list of items her mind had still yet to accept about being undead, sleeping in a coffin was definitely at the top somewhere. It was cramp and dark, and despite being the only way she got any actual rest, it was also terrible on her posture and rather claustrophobic at times.

In fact, she was in the midst of deciding whether stuffing in a few plushies would help when she felt the sudden chill down her neck.

Seras blinked, stopping mid-step. The sensation was similar to the one she had whenever her master was poking through her thoughts—icy, skittering fingers prying at the locks of her mind. At the same time however, it was also different. Unlike Alucard, whose presence breezed through like a cold wind, the feeling hovered in place, sinking down in the space behind her eyes.

To be honest, it kind of hurt and a tiny wince made its way onto Seras's face as she reached up to scrub her eyes.

"Ow," she murmured, when that only seemed to irritate them further, "Bloody hell, what…"

Mindlessly, she groped her away around a corner, hand flat against the wall as she turned.

And suddenly she was standing on the moors.

Seras blinked. Then blinked again.

The grass was thick and wild, patches of rosebay and dandelions peeking out like little islands. A ladybug rested on the edge of one blade, testing its wings. In the distance was a fragile stream trickling into the slopes and she could see the gleam of sunlight bleeding across its surface.

There were no auras. No third eye.

No darkness.

Seras's dead heart pounded. Some faint, vampiric part of her questioned how any of it could be real and then acknowledged that it probably wasn't. For the moment however, none of it mattered.

_I can see…_

It was amazing how a mere four days blind could make her notice things she had always taken for granted. The dusky sky, the gold of sap on bark, the muddy paths and speckled birds, every little thing was suddenly breath-taking, suddenly worth her time.

If she had had the tears, Seras probably would've cried.

Her moment of euphoria, however, was just that. A moment.

And a short-lived one on top of that.

Something shadowy and long had formed at the horizon.

It was near-skeletal, formed of crooked angles and jagged curves. The shape of it flowed with the breeze, the bottom a fringe of ragged edges which took Seras several beats to recognize as a dress. There were two arms, both pale-grey and tinged with yellowish green, and what seemed to be hair hung in limp clumps down the front.

Hands, disturbingly large and wide for such a skinny frame, reached out for her. They were smeared with blood.

_My little aka-chan…_

Seras flinched at the hiss, almost right in her ear despite how far away the figure seemed.

_Are you awake yet…?_

_Something horrible has happened…_

_…your brother…_

_…he rots in the sea bed…_

_…with holes in his head._

__The voice was like two rocks, grinding each other into pieces.

_Let him be a lesson…_

_…if you want to keep those eyes…_

_…find that girl…_

_…while she is still young…_

_…still…able to die._

__The figure moved. Seras's eyes widened, ice curling around her rib cage. She realized suddenly that she couldn't move.

_Do you understand…?_

It took a step forward.

And then it was in her face.

Seras's scream froze and died in her throat. Up close, it looked like a woman. Or what used to be one. A portion of the lower jaw was gone. It had green eyes.

_**TIME TO WAKE UP!** _

A hand grabbed her by the arm and suddenly Seras found her voice again.

" _Get away!_ " She shrieked and without another thought, her fist went flying out, ready to smash apart the first thing it made contact with. It was caught by the hand. Swallowed by the hand really. A familiar voice boomed in her head, sounding vaguely amused.

_Are you looking for a fight, police girl?_

The moor shattered, inky darkness surging forward as the last of the sky and grass fragmented into nothing. Cool stone rematerialized beneath her hand and her third eye snapped open again. The crimson outline of her master's aura burned bright in front of her.

Seras stared.

"M-Master?"

Alucard exhaled once, almost a sigh. The hand that had caught her fist let go and reached for her arm once more. It was only after he'd already set her on her feet that she realized she'd been on the floor. The gentle scents of her room lingered in the air. When did she get back here again?

Seras shook her head, trying to reorient herself.  
 _Let's go, Integra is calling. Walter seems to have found a few things._

"Huh?" Seras looked up, "About the curse?"

There was a quiet, affirmative noise. The Frenchman can hear again.

Seras's eyes nearly popped. "Wh-What?! But we still can't…Does that mean—"

_My little theory might be correct, yes. Now hurry up._

Seras didn't need to be told twice, following the rustle of his coat as he turned, the weird vision all but dismissed as a strange dream.

___

**5:05 pm**

___

When Alucard walked into the office with Seras in tow, Pip was the first to bound up to her, looking as eager as an overexcited puppy.

"Mignonette, I can hear again!" he exclaimed.

The edges of Seras's lips curved and she nodded. "I'm glad for you, Captain. To be honest, you were kind of worrying me."

"Haha, yeah," Pip scratched the back of his neck, "Sorry about that. Never dealt with this kind of stuff before. Didn't mean to freak you out."

Something soft stirred in Seras's expression. "Don't be sorry," she said, "It doesn't matter anymore."

They smiled at each other, a warm moment passing between them that was nothing like the usual ribbing they engaged in.

"Thanks for saving my life," Pip said.

Seras raised a wry eyebrow, "Thanks for saving mine."

There was a sudden and sharp cough.

"I'm glad you could join us, Seras," Integra said, pushing her glasses up in discomfort, "Let's proceed now, if you two wouldn't mind?"

Immediately, as if she had forgotten there were other people in the room, Seras's eyes widened and a fierce, brilliant blush flooded her cheeks.

"Y-Yes, excuse me, ma'am!" she said, practically jolting away from Pip, who looked disappointed.

Integra nodded again, her own awkwardness nearly palpable. To her right, Walter was gazing at them with a knowing kind of humor while Alucard to her left stared at the wall in boredom.

Clearing her throat, Integra quickly gestured at her butler.

"Right, go ahead, Walter. Tell us what you've found."

"As you wish," he said, stepping forward.

For the sake of Seras and Pip, Walter began by doing a concise review of the information Alucard had absorbed and relayed to them at the Langham. As they listened, their expressions grew progressively more surprised and it was clear to everyone that they'd had no idea Anguis could've been so deeply involved in the situation.

"This can't be government-sanctioned, right?" Pip said, speechless, "I mean as far as I know, France has never had any fancy organizations like Hellsing to fight off monsters and shit."

"It would've probably been top secret, Pip," Seras pointed out gently.

"The French king did only appoint the family for a one time operation," Walter said, "Apparently, the head at the time was quite a fanatic of the dark arts and supernatural. I'm guessing he believed they were the best-equipped to handle her."

Integra's eyes narrowed, studying the photo Walter had managed to extract from some old investigation reports. The image was old and blurry, as if it'd been taken by a madly trembling hand, as well as grainy enough that she had to squint to catch the dark, snake-like figure at the center.

"Kanna," she muttered, feeling the name crawl across her tongue, "I suppose we're certain now she's not a vampire?"

"A hundred percent, ma'am. In fact, it doesn't seem any of the creatures at the Witch House were vampires."

At this, Pip and Seras stared at him, incredulous.

"What? No way, I saw the teeth on those things!"

"Master," Seras turned to her sire, "Master, I thought you said—"

Alucard reached out, picking up one of the books Walter had settled on the table. As he held it up to them, Integra recognized it as one of the titles he'd been flipping through in the attic.

"'Myths and Magics of the East?'" Pip read, sounding confused.

"He's referring to the spell," Integra explained, and found herself giving a recap of their discoveries, before showing them the scroll Walter had also brought back.

"Ugh, great," Pip said, wrinkling his nose at the skeletons, "This is some intense shit."

The look of unease on Seras's face seemed to agree and she said, "So the whole curse was originally meant for one person?"

"Yes, but in our case, it somehow split between the three of you," Walter replied, glancing at Alucard with a smile, "In a manner of speaking, we were lucky. I don't think you would have found utter immobilization very enjoyable."

Alucard made a huffing sound, as if offended, while Seras and Pip shuddered at the thought. Integra couldn't help feeling a wave of relief either. Alucard was a challenge even when in possession of all his senses, let alone without half of them.

"What does this have to do with those monsters though?" she asked, bringing them back on subject, "Are they the same kind as Kanna?"

Almost simultaneously, Alucard and Walter shook their heads, the latter holding up one of the papers he'd been carrying earlier.

"Not according to the translations," he said and handed it over to Integra and Pip to read. Like Abraham's notes before, the writing was very narrow and small, which Integra once again had to squint even through her glasses to see.

It read:

_-Top two characters translate as Henkan or Transformation._

_-The caster of the Henkan spell is able to change either a subject or oneself into a different shape or form, provided the caster has encountered the desired form at least once. This transformation can be temporary or permanent depending on the essence of the energy used as a catalyzer._

_-The robbery and transferal of Shiryoku (sight), Choukaku (hearing) and Koe (voice) from a victim is only one method of Henkan. Energy from these three sources is of the purest quality and will remain permanently with the receivers once all ties with the original owner have been severed._

"Wait, wait," Pip rubbed his temple, as if he was trying to absorb too much at once, "So this is saying that that Carcolh snail or whatever took my hearing in some kind of trade right? Well how the hell did I end up giving it over to that thing? It wasn't even in France."

Before Walter could answer, Integra replied, her skin prickling with revelation, "It was."

They turned to her.

"The spell states that the caster can change a subject into any form," Integra continued, gazing at Pip, "You were fighting it, Captain."

Pip stared. His mind flashed back to the dark, twisted creatures that had trailed from the trees and House, their decaying hands and gray-blue skin. His single eye widened.

"You mean…you mean those things…one of _them_ was—"

"—the Carcolh," Seras finished, having remained quiet for several minutes. Beside her, Alucard's eyes glinted and the telepathic exchange between them could practically be seen.

"Master says she referred to them as 'her children,'" she said, "It's why she'd been killing people for their blood. Because it was being used as the catalyzing energy."

Walter's eyebrow arched as he glanced at his old friend. "Ah, yes, that would make sense. I see that you have already puzzled out quite a bit on your own, Alucard." He then turned back to Integra and Pip, "Kanna is transforming both herself and these other creatures into vampires. One of which was Lou Carcolh."

He pulled out the picture from the plane, tapping it. Alucard looked fascinated while Pip's eye widened in horror.

"Mon Dieu…"

"Indeed," Integra said, "Obviously, it had been in need of a new set of ears for some time. This painting was done almost three hundred years ago."

Pip could not conceive it. The voice that had hissed in his head echoed back to him, full of pain and desperation. It had been afraid of him. For what he could do and what he could take away.

_Three hundred years of silence…_

"What happened to it?" he asked quietly.

"Hard to say," Walter replied, "Hunters, most likely. But I would assume that most of these creatures, whatever their original forms may have been, were already damaged in some way."

"That's so sad," Seras whispered, pity clear in her words. Walter sent her a bemused look, while Alucard's brow ticked, a mix of amusement and baffled irritation beginning to surface on his face.

Before he decided to put any of it into words, Integra swiftly changed the subject.

"What about those roosters then?" she asked, gesturing at the markings on Alucard and Seras, "How are they tied into all of this?"

Walter nodded. "It did seem odd to me as well that the cursed seals did not match this original image. My only theory is that the spell has been altered in some way. Perhaps someone has gained control over Kanna, much in the same way we do with Alucard."

"It's Anguis."

For a second time, everyone paused as the words sunk into the atmosphere. The silence, however, was far, far stiller.

"…What?" Integra finally said.

Seras fidgeted, looking somewhat uneasy until Alucard poked her in the shoulder.

"M-Master says the Anguis family may have captured her a few centuries ago. We…We found this at the Witch House."

She held out her hand, holding up the jeweled rooster pin. Her sire, for all his blasé disposition, had slipped it to her to present before shuffling behind her as a shield like the giant coward he was.

Walter stared at it, curious, while Integra's face was turning an interesting shade of puce as she glared hard at the pin, as if she could banish it from existence through the sheer intensity of her rage.

"You…" she hissed, "So you did actually…you _stole_ —"

"With good reason!" Pip quickly interjected, realizing his neck was suddenly on the line as well, "With good reason, alright? I have no idea what it is, but there's definitely a good reason. Tell her, mignonette!"

"I-It's how they've collared her, ma'am!" Seras squeaked out, practically scooting into Alucard's lap, "T-There's two pins. One has control of Kanna and the other on her children. T-This is the latter. It's why none of them died even after we killed all of them. A-And why she's still alive too."

Integra's eyes narrowed. She could not deny that it was a solid excuse. In fact, it was very pertinent information that filled in several of the blanks that had remained stubbornly empty so far. Maybe she hadn't expected Anguis to be involved to the extent that he possessed actual _control_ over the monsters, but ultimately it was not what bothered her the most.

"You lied to me," she said, looking past Seras's head.

Alucard met her gaze solemnly, blinking once. She did not need Seras's translation to read the words in his eyes.

_I was going to tell you._

Before she could respond, however, Walter said, "Oh, dear, I'm afraid this is rather a big deal isn't it? Those diplomatic relations are as good as gone by this point."

"Quoi?" Pip's head swiveled to him, "Wait, you can't mean the entire government was in on this. The President has problems and needs to grow a pair sometimes, but all those people? All this magic and monsters? No way he'd be involved."

"Would it be so strange if he was?" Walter shot back, "The royal family has always been aware of Hellsing and Alucard's existence."

"Yeah, but that's _different_ —that's…" he trailed off, a look of horrified revelation beginning to brim on his face. Desperate he turned to the two women, who shrugged in a blend of apology and helplessness.

"I am sorry, Captain, it makes sense."

"It _is_ the national bird, Pip."

He stared.

A long beat passed before he sighed, collapsing into the back of his chair with a hand in his hair.

"Merde…"

Seras gave him a consoling pat while Integra looked at Walter and Alucard.

"There'll have to be more proof if we're going to be making accusations. What else can you find about her and the Anguis family?"

"Not much beyond what we already know unfortunately," Walter said, "Even if we managed to convince the French to provide us with more information, I wouldn't doubt that most of those records have been destroyed."

Integra tsked, a hand sliding into her pocket for her cigar case.

"Is this going to be unfeasible then?"

Walter smiled, already offering up a lighter, and ignoring the way Alucard's eyes pinned him down, almost in disapproval.

"Not necessarily," he said, "If you recall, Sir Integra, Alucard mentioned that Kanna arrived in France on board a ship. She killed most of them, but there were two survivors."

"I remember," Integra said, brow raising, "But that was centuries ago, you can't mean—"

Another sheet of paper was lifted. Walter placed it on the desk, sliding it over to her.

"The address to the granddaughter of one of the men," he said, "It seems not everyone onboard was escaping persecution. He had a wife and child in Europe, which was the ship's original destination."

Integra's eyes widened as she stared at the paper. Curious, both Alucard and Pip peeked over her shoulder, the latter gaping a second later.

"She's here in London?!"

Seras blinked and Walter stood, a hand to his chest.

"Shall I prepare the car then, ma'am?"

"No need," Integra was already up, dragging a surprised and then amused Alucard by the wrist, "Amazing work though, Walter. I'll be leaving Hellsing under your command this evening. It appears we have a trip to make."

___

**5:45 pm**

___

"Christ, you lot finally finished getting dolled up for the night?" Silford snapped, leaning against the wall as the rest of the Geese trailed out of the barracks.

"Can't be avoided, man," one of the sharpshooters said, still messing with his hair, "Some of us actually have a chance at getting laid, y'know."

Silford snorted.

"Chance my ass. There's nothing but whores at the pub. They'll give any of you ugly mugs a tumble as long as you're willin' to do business."

A throng of protests, grumbles and sighs of defeat went through the squad. Silford chuckled again, tossing his cigarette. It was a shame Pip couldn't have joined them tonight, especially since he'd been hoping to have the idiot explain what the hell had happened to him. He'd heard enough whispers amongst the household and regular troops to set his own curiosity aflame, especially the piece of news that one of the new pilots, who'd been picked to go on a mission with them, was now seeking resignation.

"Captain never did no business," someone else was saying, as they trudged out, "I swear the whores never had him pay a dime. Too fuckin' suave, that one. Or at least before he started getting a taste for something more dangerous."

A wave of laughter passed through them, spreading out and across the moors. It was a clear and pretty evening, with crisp air and soft breezes sweeping over the stream, making the sunset shimmer on its surface. Nights like this, Silford preferred to forgo the car in place of a stroll down the mountainside.

"Hell, I think he upgraded by a fuck-ton. Say what you want about bloodsuckers, but they are goddamn gorgeous."

"Shut up," a voice suddenly snapped, cutting through the merry-making. At the front of the group, Silford turned, eyebrows rising when he saw it was Benson, standing in the middle of the surprised men.

"Can we not talk about vampires?" he muttered, looking anxious, "Or any of that supernatural crap?"

Silford sighed, crossing his arms, "You still freaking out about that stuff at the shooting range? The Boss already chewed us out for it, so can't we just move on?"

"I told you it was a bad idea though!" Benson exclaimed, as if the words had burst out of him, "I told all of you, but no one listened. Sure, fine, they're beautiful. Sure they look and talk like us, but I'd think if that whole fucking thing with the bazookas taught you anything, it's that they're _not_ us. Never will be. They're both monst—!"

Benson suddenly cut himself off, the sentence sounding like it had died in his throat. Good thing too, as Silford was about to smack him upside the head for raving like a lunatic.

"Look," he said, "I don't know what your problem is with the vampires, Benson, but you'd best get it resolved before Captain hears about it."

Instead of a nod or a retort, Benson just kept staring forward, his face paling another shade. Silford cocked an eyebrow and was about to ask if he'd been heard when a few of the men glanced in the direction he'd been looking. With a jolt, their eyes widened as well and they backed away a step. Silford whipped around, alarmed now, and ended up dropping the cigarette that'd been dangling from his lips.

At the center of the moor, perhaps a kilometer or so away, stood a giant ebony wolf.

Or maybe what use to be one anyway.

The animal was hunched over, the spine and rib cage protruding clearly against the skin. Its coat, which he could tell was once thick and long, was sparse and covered in bald, diseased-looking patches. Half the tail had also fallen out, leaving only the spindly and naked flesh of the appendage underneath. The mouth was open, panting hard while gnats flew around the limp tongue. Truthfully, Silford would've thought it was dead if it hadn't been standing upright.

And if not for those eyes.

They were the deepest and bluest things he'd ever seen, and there was nothing dead about them. He could feel their gaze skimming over him, observing.

One of the men reached for his pistol, asking softly, "Lieutenant?"

"Hold on," Silford said, "Just don't move." This was making no sense. He hadn't heard any reports recently of escapes from the zoo and as far as he knew, wild wolves had gone extinct in England centuries ago. He supposed given the things he's seen with Hellsing, there were definitely stranger things out there, but it was still almost surreal.

A whole minute must've passed that way—all of them stiff as statues before the wolf turned away and staggered towards the grove, much to the particular relief of Benson. Once it reached the edge, however, it looked back one final time, the head tilted at an angle where the eyes caught the dying light.

For a moment, they flashed bloody red and a single, nonsensical thought popped into Silford's head.

_Have I seen those somewhere before?_


End file.
